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adoringhaikyuu · 3 years

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arguments

summary: what arguments (and the making up) are like with them.

characters: ushijima + tendou

warnings: mentions of smut for tendou’s

icons by @voleicons

ushijima:

he doesn’t mean to get into an argument with you

he’s not always good at expressing how he feels, but he knows deep down that he cares about you more than anything and would never want to be the cause of your pain

let’s just say that you had procrastinated a lot more than you meant to and now you had an overwhelming amount of work left which had you stressed as hell

you’d be so frustrated with yourself, groaning as you worked on your assignments

you’d be working since the morning and it was now a little after noon

you’d be complaining and you know that you put yourself in this position, but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna enjoy it

you’d let your head fall back and sigh loudly

“this is so stupid, i can’t do this––”

and ushijima ever the realist replies “sure you can, y/n just sit down and do it.”

and you just groan dramatically “but i caaan’t––i have like no time” essentially just throwing it out there even though you know you wasted your precious hours doing everything but your work when you could have over the week

and without meaning to piss you off at all, your boyfriend says “well we both know who’s fault that is, y/n.”

and you just pause, “...”

he takes your silence as confusion so he decides to explain further, thinking he’s only helping

“if you hadn’t waited so long to start working, you wouldn’t be here struggling right now. and this could even affect your grade too since you have yourself limited time.”

with each word he adds, the more the weight of everything piles on top of you, making your shoulder sink

you can feel your eyes start to water from all the stress, and from his words––deep down you know he doesn’t mean any harm, but the way he’s speaking makes it sound like he’s not supportive of you or sympathetic at all

tears pool up in your eyes and you quickly get up, glaring at your boyfriend as best you can as you try to hold the tears in

“fuck you ushijima. you’re supposed to be my boyfriend, not my dad.”

you storm off to another room with your laptop and he sits there on the couch, blinking in confusion

he sits there in silence for a bit, trying to make sense of everything that just happened

it’s only when he realizes that he’s had a fight with you and caused you to cry that it really hits him and his chest starts to hurt

ushijima felt bad. really bad. he gave you a few hours before going to find you, deciding it would be best to let you cool off since you probably didn’t want to face him right away and it would give you time to work uninterrupted.

he got up from the couch when the sun started to set and made his way to the bedroom. he found you there on the bed, your laptop on your lap, a furrow between your brows as you typed away at your laptop. your eyes glanced over to him for a split second but you were quick to look away. you weren’t really mad at him, just a little annoyed, and the stress you were experiencing only added to that feeling.

when you didn’t say anything, he slowly walked into the room and took a seat near the edge of the bed, in front of where you were sitting with your legs crossed, his hands in his lap. he waited silently until you pushed your laptop to the side, stretching to take a small break.

“i––i’m sorry for hurting you.” he looked up at you and sighed when you averted your eyes, biting your lip nervously. “i didn’t mean to make you upset. i really am sorry.”

you could feel his eyes piercing you as he waited for you to say something. he was about to get up and leave you alone when you reached for his hand. he paused and sat back down, turning to you as you climbed into his lap. you buried your face in his sweatshirt and he was quick to let his arms go around your waist and hold you in place.

“it’s okay.” you mumbled into his chest. “i’m sorry too. i didn’t mean what i said––i was just... stressed. and annoyed that you were right.”

he tightened his hold on you. “i didn’t mean what i said either.”

you let out a light breath of laughter. “yes you did toshi. but it’s okay.”

he paused and looked up for a moment, in thought. “i may have meant what i said, but i did not mean it as an insult. i would never want to hurt you. or make you cry.”

though he wasn’t showing much emotion, you could tell he was beating himself up about this in his head and pulled away to look at him and he almost didn’t want to let you. you looked into his eyes, a small smile on your face as your hands came up to hold his cheeks and he nuzzled into your touch. “i know toshi. i’m not mad, really. i forgive you.” you pressed a light kiss to his lips. “i love you.”

he softly squeezed your sides, relieved. “and i you.”

tendou:

you and tendou would have a very playful relationship

meaning you would tease each other a lot

and most of the time it was just harmless banter

“you’re just sad because i’m better than you, y/n. it’s okay i get it. i would be sad too.”

“oh shut up, my ass is fatter than yours so ha.”

you honestly enjoyed spending time with him and teasing each other

some people thought it was a little weird that you would literally insult ?each other ?

as you’re walking home from practice after you’ve waited up for tendou, ushijima turns to look at you guys when you start like verbally attacking each other, so confused

“are you guys fighting?”

and you’d both turn to him, pausing your banter, looking at him like wtf??

and would simultaneously go “no? what makes you say that?”

and ushijima is so confused he just decides to ignore it and keep walking silently

but the banter was honestly how you showed your love for each other in your own weird way

if you bullied each other it meant you cared about each other

but one day you’d be in a pissy mood, stressed from work or whatever

and you and tendou would be teasing each other, well really he was going in and really going for it

and you’d be giving him shorter responses than usual, trying to give him the hint that you weren’t in the mood

but he wasn’t getting it

with each “insult” the more annoyed you could feel yourself getting, and you were frustrated that you were feeling this way because you knew this was his love language but you just couldn’t help yourself

as his smile widened you felt yourself get more and more upset

you’d be getting so upset, feeling your throat back up and your eyes get heavy with tears the more he went on

you’d be silent for a bit and he’d tease

“what, no comeback?”

when you didn’t respond like you normally would he’d lean down to look at you, his wide and playful eyes looking into yours and he’d notice the your glassy eyes and he’d frown immediately

“what’s this? what’s wrong?”

and you’d try to just walk past him but he’d be having none of that

his hands were quick to grab your waist and spin you back to him but you only sighed and kept your head down, trying to get out of his grasp. “let me go, tendou.” your voice was sharp but clearly pained and honestly shocked him.

“ah ah.” he held you still and bent his head down. “look at me baby girl. what’s wrong? did i go too far?”

and you just let out a small sob at how sweet he was being. you crashed into his chest and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight as a few tears soaked his shirt. “i––” you sniffled. “it’s not you really. i just...” you pulled away and his hands came up to wipe your tears, making you smile. “i’m just stressed out and it’s getting to me, and your comments only put me in a bad mood. but it’s not your fault! i should have said something.”

he frowned, pulling you in for another hug. “you have nothing to apologize for, dumbass. i’m sorry for not paying closer attention to my princess.”

he pulled away and leaned down to kiss you deeply and pulled away with a smirk. “i guess i’m just gonna have to be nicer to you now since you’re so sensitive, baby.”

you rolled your eyes, smacking his arm lightly. “shut up.”

“ooh feisty.” he pushed you down on the bed and hovered over you. “you know what it does to me when you fight back.” his lips grazed yours and you let out a small gasp feeling him grind his hips into you. of course your messed up boyfriend got turned on just after seeing you cry.

he bit your lip softly. “you know,” he licked his lips, looking at you as if you were his last meal. “i think i know how i can help you relieve that stress baby.”

“oh yeah?” you asked softly only making him smirk.

“mhm.” he nodded, sliding down between your legs. he started to pull off your sweats. “why don’t we see if you’re just as sensitive down here too.”

you rolled your eyes, a smile on your lips. “fuck you tendou.”

his grin was sinister. “oh i plan to.”

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skampi835 · 3 years

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Let’s never speak of this again! (Motonari x reader)

Let’s celebrate Motonari’s upcoming route with an oneshot! 🥳 Since I hopefully avoided most of the spoilers I didn’t come up with any good idea, but then I found this:

you and your enemy hug each other, it's completely accidental, and neither of you know why it happened, and it's like,,, you glare at each other, with an expression of ''let's never speak of this again'´

Thanks for putting this idea in my mind @screnwriter!

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Language: english

Starring: Motonari x reader (female)

Genre: Comedy

Warning: besides Motonari’s slanguage surprisingly none... ahaha who am I kidding? It's Motonari 😂

real Warnings: angst, bad language, violence (fighting scene!)

Word Count: 1.810

“Get her!”

Shoot! How do I always end in situations like this?!

With this thought you’re bolting straight into the next alleyway. You’ve left the busy trading streets of Azuchi a long time ago and unfortunately lost track of your current position due the rising panic inside of you. Honestly, you’ve no idea where the heck you are right now! Though obviously still in Azuchi you’re running hopefully into the right direction towards the fuller marketplace!

Desperate, you’re squeezing your way through a very small gap between two buildings and dash on. Maybe your pursuers can’t follow you through this and it'll buy you some extra time! The shouts from traders and the sounds of frisky chatters are getting louder with every step you’re taking, which means you have to be on the right track!

Determined you’re keeping up the fast pace, praying you’re able to shake off your pursuers completely in the crowds of the busy market, as you round the next corner. But all of a sudden you’re awfully crashing into a wall.

“Woah!”

“Uff--!”

The heavy impact is stealing your air, though obviously not only from you, but also from said wall, which in the hustle and bustle you’re literally falling into his arms eagerly not to fall. Together you’re even staggering sideways for a split second. Stressed and tense you’re spinning your head up with surprise, staring into the startled, wide ruby red eyes of the man. "Wah-…?"

“… You?!”

You didn't even realize how tight you were clutching Motonari when you crashed into him, until he’s violently yanking your arms away. "The hell yer doing? Got a bloody death wish?" He hisses and is glaring at you furiously.

As shocked as Motonari's reaction was, so are you aghast to face him right now. "What, of all people, are you doing here?!" You snap, still completely out of breath.

Quick steps are pulling you back to the current situation you are still in. You were supposed to keep running from your pursuers but simultaneously you’re facing an enemy of the Oda forces. Your situation is definetly growing somewhat hopeless. Nevertheless the sight of Motonari’s anger makes it a lot easier for your decision, to pass him and run away, than to stand rooted on the spot.

Unfortunately Motonari suddenly grabs your wrist roughly when you've just turned away and is pulling you back. "Ack-…! Let me go!" you plead.

"I won't do shit," Motonari growls venomously. "Now that yer recognized me, princess, I’ve gotta improvise something."

The hectic steps from the side street are getting louder with every passing moment, before they’re coming to a sudden stop right next to you. “There’s this witch!” One of the pursuers is shouting. He’s considerably tall with broad shoulders and a massive body. Shortly afterwards another two coarse figures appears behind him. They’re building themselves up with stern grimaces in the narrow alleyway.

Your eyes anxiously widen and your body starts to tremble ever so slightly. But there is no running away again for you, for Motonari’s adamant grip is chaining you.

"Huh, didn't even know yer know so many grim-looking acquaintances, princess." Motonari’s saying coolly, scanning the three men with his steely gaze. Still he doesn't loosen his grip on your wrist instead he’s tightening it.

"I haven't!" You snort, trying to yank your hand free to get away from him - without avail. You don’t know if it's better, getting caught by Motonari or these guys. But you know for shure both scenarios are pretty bad.

"Hey, you there! Plat-head!” One of the scoundrels growls and is glaring at Motonari grimly, whose dryly raising an eyebrow at this denomination. "Give us the little girl. We have business with her."

“That stupid hussy broke my nose!” Another of them shouts indignantly. You’re noticing his swollen red nose and you can't suppress a brief, yet inappropriate, flash of pride in your face.

It was just a few minutes ago, when they stalked you after you’ve exited your favorite shop. Unfortunately this shop is located in the outskirts of the village so there weren’t many people when they confronted you. The guys wanted to ‘talk to you nicely’ and after a few seconds you’ve ‘nicely declined'. Thank goodness you know some techniques of self-defense!

However, even more inappropriate is Motonari's spiteful laughter that he’s suddenly uttering. It’s giving you the creeps! "Seriously?" With a quick sideways glance in your direction with his ruby red orbs, he’s grinning at the fellow with extreme smug. "Tell me, how’d she did it, putz? Did she climb onto yer?"

Good gracious! Wouldn’t you please make him madder than he already is? Pretty please?!

"What did you just call me?" The broad shouldered man’s roaring furiously. Shortening the distance to Motonari, he’s threateningly waving with his massive fist.

Without wanting to, you’re quickly seeking cover behind Motonari, who has finally let go of your wrist. Now with his hands free he’s facing the attacker. With quick reflexes Motonari’s skillfully dodging the scoundrel's punch and draws his sword with a metal 'shink' that’s humming in the air. You’re holding your breath when Motonari’s holding the blade right against the throat of the ruffian, who is instantly not moving a muscle anymore. "Are you out of yer damn mind? You fucking want to take me on unarmed?!"

Motonari’s sounding incredibly unimpressed, for it was him against three rapscallions, but also incredibly pissed. No matter how this will end, you're sure you won't be of any use. So you’re looking around for an escape route. But you are cornered. The only side you could rush to is a dead end.

"The lil’ one’s mine, get it? So piss off, aye? ” Motonari’s growling with a frown and kicks the man roughly in his side. Gruntling the man hits the ground hard.

"You sunova-!" Furiously about the defeat of his crony, another ruffian - not quite as stupid as his predecessor - is trying his luck with a rusty dagger, when he’s running towards Motonari. But after a few seconds it lands on the ground, followed by the guy.

The last of the crew charges in, just to earn a brutal smack with the back of Motonari’s sword in the side of his neck. "Tch! How the hell did ya morons think yer can take me on when a lil’ girly beat you up? Ya wanna make me really mad?”

You’re recognizing the change in the air around Motonari. It’s tense, shifting from the beginning amusement to bloodlust. Motonari’s wielding his sword, but apparently used it just to disarm his opponent. But now it seems that he won’t restrain himself any longer.

"Crap, let's get out of here!" The guy with the lost dagger is yelling towards his pals. Frantically they’re getting up and quickly disappear into the alleys.

You sigh, relieved as the men finally disappear. But just one moment later your heart’s sinking completely into your boots when Motonari turns back to you, though this time with a sword in his hand. "Back to ya, princess."

“I haven't seen or heard anything!” You shout, throwing your arms up in air and backing from him. Now pressed against a real wall on the side of the house, your heart is pounding up to your throat, when you meet Motonari’s sharp gaze. Luckily the bloodlust you’ve seen before has gone, too.

Motonari’s raising an eyebrow, probably irritated by your strange reaction and is fixing you. Then the corner of his mouth curves up to an amusing smirk while he’s withdrawing his sword back to his belt. “Heh, ain’t that a start?” He snickers.

Abruptly he shortens the distance to you, placing one of his white gloved hands right next to your head against the wall behind you. Superior and smugly, Motonari’s looking straight into your eyes, straight into you. The tension’s getting tangible again and your heart’s pounding hard in your chest. "You owe me. I bet you saw nothing, understood?"

Something you least of all wanted, is to owe to some madman like Motunari! His stern expression is sending a shiver through your spine. "I- ... uhm ... thank you?"

"What should I do with yer thanks? Can’t buy anything with ‘em.” Motonari snarls dissatisfied and is slightly narrowing his eyes. "Either you damn shut yer mouth about everything ya saw - hell, just forget I’m even here! Or I'll cut out yer pretty tongue. Ain’t that a deal?"

Automatically you’re pressing your lips together sealing your mouth - and especially your tongue. You’re staring at him in horror with wide eyes. "Let's never talk about this again, aye?"

What joice do you have? Of course you could just agree with Motonari and then tell the warlords about his whereabouts. But you’ve always been a woman which sticks to her word, no matter how bitter this one is. Not entirely sure whether he'll still carry out his threat to cut off your tongue, you're just nodding, while glancing determined up to him.

"Splendid." Motonari’s pushing himself off the wall with a mask of satisfaction on his face, giving you the way free. "Then rush back to yer patrons, ‘lil princess.”

Uncertain you’re blinking towards him. Motonari makes no move to stop you, he’s just waving with his hand in your direction. He really leaves you with just that! Without further thinking, you’re taking to your heels and bolt away. Not that he'll change his mind after all!

After two more alleys, you’re finally reaching the busy and crowded market and try to calm your panicked pounding heart. That was definitely too much excitement for one day! Still, you're grateful for Motonari getting those ruffians off your back. But why does it haf to be Motonari of all people?!

A deal is a deal, you’re thinking to yourself taking one last, deep, nessecary breath. Certainly it won’t mean anything good that Motonari’s currently in Azuchi. You just hope, you won’t regret this deal someday.

With quick steps you’re heading purposefully back to the castle. Even if this idiot surely won’t appreciate it, your silence about that accident was certain to him.

And you are going to take to grave, that you’ve embraced Motonari by that accident, when running into him. Yes, better never even think about this again!

_____

Motonari’s running his white gloved fingers through his hair and grunts in annoyance, after you left. That you’ve recognized him is a great nuisance to him. It’s time to rethink his plans. That would slow things down a lot.

As if he’d actually trust a little princess like you to keep her mouth shut. What stupidity!

Casually he drives his hands on his sides to get rid of the strange feeling from your delicate arms embracing him.

Let's never talk about this again. - Yeah, better let's not.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #fanfiction #ikesen fanfic #ikemen sengoku fanfiction #ikesen fanfiction #ikesen fic #ikesen motonari #Motonari Mouri #ikesen motonari fanfic #ikesen motonari fanfiction

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uwuwriting · 3 years

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Breaking in pt.2 w/ Aizawa, Shinsou and Bakugou

Request: Hi!! SoooOO I recently found your stuff and it's safe to say I am ✨obsessed✨ I LOVED the post you did of the BNHA reacting to someone breaking in with Hawks, Dabi and Todoroki. I was wondering if you could do another one with like Shinsou, Bakugou and Aizawa. I feel like Baku would throw mad HANDS. love your work stay stuff and have a good day x - anonymous

Okay I too love rescue fics and being kidnapped or held hostage is one of my favorite tropes. Throwing your kids in the mix is immaculat at least for me because I’m a die hard fan of domestic AUs. So of course I’m gonna write this trope again with these three idiots. I enjoyed writing the previous one so hehheehehehhe. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: some descriptions of violence, some crying but fluff/comfort in the end.

Aizawa Shota II a son (Kaito)

-He was running late.

-He hated running late.

-Today the class had extra training hours and it lasted longer than he expected, so much so that he had to call for someone to fill in his spot on patrol tonight.

-In reality he really wanted to spend the night at home with you and your 2 year old son, canceling his patrol because the kids didn’t finish training was just an excuse.

-He had shot you a text informing you that he would be home tonight but a little later than usual.

-You had just picked up Kaito from his aunt when you got Aizawa’s message.

-You were excited to spend some time with your husband.

-Between your time teaching and his midnight patrols, the only moments you truly got to spend with him were in between the classes or when he came home for dinner and then immediately left.

-You knew he felt bad leaving the two of you alone for so long and you knew he beat himself up for missing precious time with his son.

-Opening your apartment door you were met with complete silence which was odd.

-Usually your three cats, Mochi, Mocha and Coco would meet you at the door, mewing and purring at your feet, Kaito always wanting to be put down so he could pet them.

-Now though none of them came and you immediately knew something was up.

-Your spidey senses were tingling.

-Setting your stuff down you held Kaito closer to you as you slowly walked around your living room and kitchen.

-Nothing seemed amiss.

-Kaito let out a small whimper and shifted in your grip as something moved behind you.

-Just because you retired from being a hero doesn’t mean your skills have disappeared.

-Oh no, as a new mom you were hyper aware of your surroundings and you easily dodged the blow that was aimed at your head.

-Whipping around you came face to face with a hooded figure that seemed more like a burglar than a villain.

-The dude's eyes quickly landed on Kaito and he let out a shaky breath.

-They definitely weren’t villains.

-People were aware of Aizawa’s family and any villain who tried to get to him through you would have known about Kaito’s existence.

- “Shit…. Yo she has a kid!”

-Another one came pounding from the hallway, eyes quickly landing on the baby you had clutched to your chest.

-Letting out an exasperated sigh the second intruder rolled his eyes, grabbing an umbrella from the hanger and slowly making his way towards you.

- “Just knock her out and tie her up, put the kid in a crib or something.”

-You weren’t about to let them touch your son, they wouldn’t even be able to come remotely near him.

-Activating your quirk, thrumming filled the air as you were prepared to fight them, to keep them away from the crying child in your arms and that’s when you saw him.

-He is always so silent, his footsteps so gentle on the marble floor of your apartment that you have convinced yourself that he is indeed half cat at this point.

-Aizawa was burning holes at the back of their heads, hair up as he activated his quirk, cancelling theirs.

-You kissed Kaito as Shota let his capture tool fly across the room successfully trapping the two burglars.

-In six strides you were next to him, checking for injuries on each other while simultaneously trying *and failing mostly* to calm your 2 year old down.

-The police were called, naming this whole incident as a random burglary and not a scheduled attack, relieving both of you; you didn’t wanna move again.

-That night Kaito slept in your room, cuddled on Aizawa’s chest as you were nestled under his arm.

-Three fur balls were curled at the foot of your shared bed, purring away lulling you to sleep.

-You found those three locked in your bathroom.

-Apparently Mocha had scratched the living hell out of one of the burglars and they had locked all of them in the bathroom for safe measure.

- “I’m sorry for this.”

- “Burglaries happen Shota, it wasn’t your fault. I’m glad you came when you did, fighting while holding Kaito would have been kinda difficult. I think I might be getting kinda rusty.”

-He stroked Kaito’s plush cheek before letting out a sigh.

- “I have never seen him cry like that. When he sees me he always calms down but now-”

- “He was scared, Shota. He saw them before I did and the whole situation shook him up. But he’ll be fine, he’s got us.”

-Giving you a kiss and then placing another one on his son’s forehead, he closed his eyes, arms tightening around the both of you a little.

Shinsou Hitoshi II a daughter (Kei)

-Hitoshi had been to every single pharmacy in the area searching for Kei’s medication.

-She had gotten sick and you had asked him to fetch some antibiotics your pediatrician had suggested you give her if her fever didn’t go down.

-Now, Hitoshi was getting desperate.

-It was the flu season and almost all the pharmacies had emptied their shelves from this particular antibiotic.

-He was ready to pull his hair out.

-Apart from that, he also hated leaving you alone like this.

-You both needed him at the moment and he wasn’t helping at all.

-Kei was suffering from her fever while you were about 7 weeks pregnant and he was out here running around like a maniac.

-In one last desperate attempt he entered another pharmacy and to his surprise they had what he was looking for and he was out the door in a flash, leaving the store without giving the clerk enough time to say a single ‘thank you, come again.’

-Sprinting home, he dashed into your apartment complex and up the stairs, fumbling for his keys as he neared your door only to find it already ajar.

-Slowing down he looked at the open entryway; he was sure he closed it on the way out.

-Why hadn’t you closed it?

-Pushing it open he came face to face with a disheveled living room, Kei’s toys scattered everywhere while one of your armchairs was knocked over.

-A small whimper suddenly pierced the air and Hitoshi would recognize his daughter’s cries from anywhere.

-A deep voice told her to shut up which was answered by your angry voice threatening to beat the living shit out of them if they touched her.

-With silent steps, Hitoshi tiptoed to your daughter’s room where he could hear the talking only to stop dead in his tracks when shuffling came from your bedroom.

-Another figure emerged from your bedroom halting once they saw Shinsou.

- “What th-”

- “Sleep.”

-Without bothering to check if the intruder passed out, Hitoshi pushed open the door, his anger radiating all around him at the very thought that someone had touched his family.

-The second person whipped around at the sound of the door opening, eyes wide as they met Hitoshi’s, fumbling to activate their quirk.

-They made the fatal mistake of speaking though and soon they were unconscious just like their friend, laying on the pastel carpet of Kei’s room.

-In one swift motion he had Kei in his arms and untied your wrists, rubbing the irritated skin and checking for injuries.

-Kei wouldn’t calm down, her grip on his shirt turned to iron once the police dragged them out of your house.

- “I wish I could beat their ass.”

- “You know you can’t use your quirk right now kitten.”

- “Yeah but they pissed me off.”

-Your doctor had forbidden quirk use during the pregnancy and that’s why those two morons had managed to catch you.

-The scowl on your face had become almost permanent and Shinsou couldn’t decide if he should find it cute or terrifying.

-Kei became attached to Hitoshi’s chest.

-Hitoshi refused to let her go just like she refused to let him go, staying in his embrace for the rest of the day, any attempt to get her away from him resulting in tears.

-You are kinda salty but some ice cream will fix that.

Bakugou Katsuki II A son (Tatsuo)

- “Okay kids, you have a nice weekend and don’t forget to finish your family portraits for Monday. Tatsuo and I would love to see them.”

-A multitude of goodbyes came through the screen as your kindergarten class, some of your students even opened their cameras to wave at you and your son who was sitting on your lap.

-Tatsuo babbled back at them, little byes leaving his lips as he too waved back at your laptop.

-Being in quarantine wasn’t that bad for a kindergarten teacher.

-Your online classes weren’t difficult to manage and you got to spend more time with your two year old son.

-The class loved seeing him and would ask if he was joining them each morning.

-Closing your laptop, you hugged your mini Katsuki as you started heating up his milk.

-You were humming, gently rocking him as you waited for the milk, giving him stray kisses here and there just to see his little nose scrunch up reminding you of Katsuki more and more everyday.

-Checking your phone for any new messages, you let out a sigh at your husband’s message saying he was coming home; that was thirty minutes ago.

-Hero work didn’t let up despite the quarantine.

-Bakugou was as busy as ever, leaving first thing in the morning and most of the time returning home late in the afternoon sometimes staying out even after midnight.

-Today though he had managed to get off earlier than usual, promising to cook for both of you tonight.

-You knew he wanted to spend more time with Tatsuo and the fact that he was gone for the majority of the day was eating him up.

-He was so worried that he was neglecting his son; he even convinced himself that Tatsuo would soon come to hate him.

-Your son on the other hand was attached to Katsuki’s hip, always searching for his dad in the morning and beaming when Katsu came home.

-He could never hate him.

-The sound of the door opening snapped you out of your little Katsuki infused dream state.

-Turning around you expected to see your husband in the living room, arms stretched out as he smiled at the two of you.

-But you were met with three strangers; three hooded strangers holding a crowbar and two bags.

-It was a staring contest for a solid five minutes before either of you moved.

-One of them noticed Tatsuo and nudged his “coworker” who then informed the leader of the trio.

- “Better not make a sound sweetheart, I’d hate hurting that pretty little face of yours.”

-He took a step forward only for you to take a step back, until your back hit the cupboard.

-He let out a chuckle and motioned for his rookies to search the place as he continued walking towards you.

-Tastuo was gripping your shirt, eyes trained on the man, his brows downcast in anger.

-Your phone lit up on the counter and in one swift move you grabbed it, pressing your emergency call button as the intruder rounded the counter.

-You sprinted for the front door just as Katsuki picked up only to be grabbed by one of the other two and dragged back inside the house, Katsuki’s yells echoing through the phone.

-Now you are aware that your husband is one of the top pro heroes.

-You know that in order to rise to the top charts in this industry you need to have certain attributes like strength, tactical thinking ….speed.

-You felt him more than saw him.

-You were wrestling to get the hands of the intruder off of you when you felt the windows rattle.

-And before you knew it, your husband had tackled the man holding you to the floor, knocking him unconscious with a single punch before pouncing on the other two.

-Tatsuo was letting out small hiccups as tears rolled down his cheeks, his grip on your shirt never wavering but he refused to sob.

-He had his father’s pride okay? Even at the age of two.

-Katsuki had you both in his arms in a flash, calling the police before checking both of you over for injuries and what not.

- “Did they hurt you? I swear I’ll kill them if they did.”

- “We are fine Katsu, just a little shaken.”

-The moment Tatsuo was in Katsuki’s arms he began to cry, burying his face in his dad’s chest still holding on to your shirt.

-It took an eternity to calm him down and even longer to put him to sleep, even though he was sleeping in your bed.

-The next morning Katsuki was on the news for marching to the police station and beating the living hell out of the burglars.

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez @storage11037 @ezoyscorner @letscheereachotheron @wolfkid22 @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses @threeamwriting @ysatrap @yashinosakura @belladonna-coven @angel6786 @meena-in-a-nutshell

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thran-duils · 3 years

Text

Doll Me Up (P.8)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part Eight) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 2,487 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior, drug use Author’s Note: **More mentions of Tony doing cocaine and with RDJ’s past, that may be offensive to some! Head’s up! You have been warned**

Part Seven || Part Nine || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Three months ago (cont.)…

Tony was fidgeting in the seat next to you and you stayed silent, knowing he was riled up and giving him any type of poke was going to set him off again. Granted, you really did not have to do anything yourself to set him off; he was good enough at doing that himself.

His gaze fell on you beside him and he gestured fiercely at Mikhail driving in the front seat. “See? This is how you get faded and take a joy ride! Speaking of which.”

He pulled a baggy out of his pocket and muttered under his breath angrily. “So fucking stupid, Y/N.” He took a pinch out of the bag. “Don’t be a fucking idiot. Don’t get your rocks off and then fucking…” he inhaled the small bump and leaned back, stuffing the closed baggy back in his pocket. It took a few minutes for him to say, “Fucking take a car that I paid for. And then try to kill yourself!”

Angrily, you responded, “I didn’t try to kill myself! I was going to my friend’s! I just wanted to be away from you being a dick for a while!”

Tony pinned you up against the seat, his fingers digging in. “You are reckless! You drive me fucking insane sometimes! You are going to be on a very short leash, you understand me? And me being a dick? Because I told you no? You know, I am right telling you that! You can’t even conduct yourself well at home under supervision. What would you do if I wasn’t there to watch out for you? Huh?”

You tried to look away from him and his hand left your chest and came up to force you to look back at him. “You better count yourself lucky that there are people over cause that means I’m not gonna spank you just yet. When we get back, you’re going to walk that ass of yours out to the pool and sit right where I can see you. You got me?” You took more than a few seconds to answer, and he demanded again, “I said you got me?”

“Yes,” you forced out.

He let you go roughly and sat back against his seat, still glaring daggers through you. You turned your eyes away and you still felt him staring at you for a few moments before he shifted, and you saw out of the corner of your eye that he had pulled his phone out. Tony busied himself on his phone the rest of the way home and you sat with your arms crossed, staring out the window.

“Pull up out front, we’ll get out there and then you can go down into the garage,” Tony told Mikhail as he pulled into the driveway.

When you got out of the car out front of the house, Tony was at your side, holding on tight. Like he did not expect you to follow what he had ordered you to do. The music was still playing outside, and you heard chatter; the party was still going in the two of your absence.

Coming through the living room, the two of you met Happy coming back from what you assumed was the bathroom.

Happy looked relieved to see you. “Oh, so you found her.”

“Unfortunately,” you snapped at him, yanking your arm away from Tony, just wanting to walk on your own.

He was quick though and grabbed you back, turning and pushing you up against the wall, holding you in place with a hand on your chest, his other finger pointing in your face.

“You are being a fucking brat! Cut the shit! Shape the hell up. I won’t have you embarrassing me out there! I know you can act better!”

Tony let you go and gestured for you to walk on. You sucked your teeth and went forward, shooting a look at Happy who was watching you closely. He looked as unimpressed as Tony was. Tony was at your back as you walked outside, and you went straight for the alcohol.

“Yeah, good idea. More alcohol. But you know, maybe it’ll chill you the hell out,” he said quietly, annoyed to you. He took the bottle from you and poured the shots for you. Picking it up, he shoved one into your hand and took the other for himself. Clinking your shot glasses, he downed it, you following his lead.

His hand snaked around your hips and he gave you a push to start walking. You did not miss some of his men at the table watching the pair of you approach. He gave you a forceful shove to sit in one of the chairs at the poker table and you fell back into it. Hands gripping the arms, you did your best to not clench your jaw as he sat down next to you. Tony knew you would be embarrassed to be out here – no doubt everyone knowing something had to have happened if Tony and you both left, even if they were not privy to the details – and that was the form of punishment he was choosing for now. Everyone knowing that you had done something to piss him off and now you were being forced to sit there and be obedient.

<><><>

Later that same night…

“I still can’t believe she pulled that shit,” Tony spat, rubbing at his mouth furiously.

Him, Mikhail, and Happy were sitting around the fire pit. The party had long since died down and it was just the three of them outside in the dark, still having some drinks. Tony had sent Y/N upstairs an hour ago and told her if she opened the bedroom door, F.R.I.D.A.Y. would notify him.

“She’s got a wild streak,” Happy commented, taking a long inhale off his cigar.

“Something I’m simultaneously attracted to and also wanna smack her a good one over,” Tony muttered. He shook his head and sighed, “Fucking scared the shit out of me. The thought of losing her. Especially like that.”

“Get her pregnant. Lock her down,” Mikhail said simply. Happy and Tony stared at him and Mikhail rose an eyebrow. “What? She’ll have to be more cautious and then you don’t have to be worried about her going anywhere. I mean, another tie to you too.”

“C’mon. Tony with a kid?” Happy laughed and then noticed Tony was not sharing in on the laugh. His laugh subsided slowly, smile shrinking. He stared at Tony in disbelief, who was lost in thought. “What? Boss, really?”

Tony shrugged and took a drink. “We’ve been together for almost two years.”

“Tony, you had to go retrieve her after she went drunk driving today,” Happy said slowly.

“She’s not usually that rash. Isolated incident.”

Happy threw his hands out weakly, throwing a desperate look at Mikhail for help. Mikhail shrugged and Happy sighed sharply. He straightened up in his chair, “So if she’s not usually that rash, why the talk of a kid? Look, has this ever come up in conversation? Does she even want a kid? I mean, not to be completely rude, but do we think we can trust her to raise one?”

“I want a kid. At least one,” Tony said at the same time that Mikahil spoke.

“She won’t have to raise it by herself. That’s what nannies are for. Give the parents a break,” Mikhail chimed in and Happy set his jaw, looking like he wanted to sock him.

Tony nodded slowly, taking that in.

Mikhail continued, “Women think they don’t want it but if you get them pregnant, the hormones just take over. And they’re immediately momma bear.”

“I don’t think that’s exactly how it works,” Tony said cocking his head, giving Mikhail an odd look. “But I get your overall point. Just… give her some responsibility. Focus on her projects and a baby. Refocus her energy.”

Happy could see the wheels turning and he knew that when Tony set his mind to something, there was very little that could dissuade him from that path.

“Well, she’s already not on birth control,” Tony said, taking another drink.

“Are you joking?” Happy asked.

“She got the IUD taken out a couple months ago. Just been using condoms… most of the time,” Tony replied, smacking his lips. “She didn’t want to get another one. An IUD. Talked about pills. But never followed up on it…”

Happy blew a raspberry and shrugged, “Well… that’s fortuitous I suppose.”

“Yeah… seems like it,” Tony said, staring off into nothing.

<><><>

“So, I overheard something…” Happy said, trailing off.

“What?” Tony questioned, leaning back in his chair.

“I think you and the missus need to have a little chat. Just to nip something in the bud,” Happy said, tapping his fingers on the desk.

Tony had just hung up with a business partner and Happy was sitting across the desk from him. The meeting had been relatively short, about twenty minutes. Happy did not waste time to bring the conversation he had overheard between Pepper and Y/N to Tony. Especially since the meeting had gone well, he would be in a better mood to hear it.

“I only caught the end of the conversation but sounded like she’s trying to figure out how to… get rid of the baby.”

Tony was silent, staring across the desk at Happy. His expression was unreadable. When he did speak though, it was not a secret he was pissed.

“Who the hellwas she talking to?”

Happy sucked his teeth and admitted, “Pepper.”

“Pepper?”

“Yes.”

Leaning forward quickly, Tony slammed his finger on the call button for her office. “Pepper!” Tony barked into the intercom on his phone.

“Yes?”

“Can you come to my office for a second.” It was not a question. It took her a few since her office was down the hall but Pepper walked into the office, standing by the door, and Tony gestured at her saying, “Closed.” She closed the door behind her and turned back to him, looking curious.

“You got anything to tell me?” Tony asked. She stared at him dumbly, shooting a look at Happy. He was returning a blank stare. Tony gestured impatiently. “Here, I’ll help. About my wife.”

Pepper shot Happy another look and he was returning a hard stare now. She surmised that he knew that Y/N had talked to her – had overheard it – and she had no opportunity to lie here.

She shrugged, “About her talking to me?”

“Mhmm,” Tony nodded, his gaze burning into her.

“She wanted me to talk to you. She thinks you’d listen to me.”

“About?”

“Not having a baby,” Pepper said plainly. Tony’s mouth fell open in anger hearing it confirmed and she said quickly, “I don’t know why she thinks you would listen to me. But I told her that’s a conversation she should be having with you, not me.”

It took Tony a few moments to gather himself before he spat, “Does she have a plan?”

“Not that I know.”

“What else did she say?” Pepper bit her bottom lip, silent. Tony demanded, “What else did she say, Pepper?”

Shrugging, Pepper treaded carefully, “She’s worried you’re gonna divorce her after ‘her body gets completely destroyed’ and then she’s ‘just gonna be stuck with a baby that she has no idea what to do with’.” She noticed the baffled looks on both Tony and Happy’s faces and sighed. “I’m assuming you didn’t hear the entire conversation,” Pepper directed at Happy. His expression said everything, and she sighed heavily again, looking back at Tony. “She is extremely insecure Tony. I don’t get it. It’s actually a little alarming. Do you get off on that?”

“No, Pepper, I don’t ‘get off’ on that,” Tony said tightly, looking offended.

Pepper closed her mouth, recognizing the anger on his face. After a few moments, she stated, “She’s scared, Tony.”

Tony was silent for an uncomfortable amount of time, pique still evident in his expression. He cleared his throat, shrugging, “Sounds like it. Anyway, I wish you would have brought this to me unprompted.”

“Tony, that conversation just happened like a half hour ago,” Pepper told him slowly.

“And you didn’t come to me immediately?”

Unamused, Pepper said, “No. I figured if she was serious she would talk to you like I told her she should. And she told me she was going to. She hasn’t had much opportunity to do so though since then and now.”

Tony snorted, “Y/N is not one for mature conversations most of the time anyway. She’s got a flair for the dramatics and gets in these moods, has outbursts. Trust me. She’s a goddamn handful. I mean, you know! The running off and starting fights.” Pepper was staring at him incredulously and he noticed. He rose a brow in return, “What?”

“Nothing,” she said flatly.

“Hmm. Well..” he exhaled deeply, smacking his lips. “Looks like I’ll just have to have a chat. Thank you for being honest, Pepper. Even if it was forced. You’re a doll.”

“Yeah.”

She turned away from him and began walking towards the door. Pepper stopped her stride and exhaled sharply before turning back around to face Tony. “You know, Tony, maybe it would serve you well to listen to her.” Tony stared at her reproachfully in return and she added forcibly, “Seriously. She sounded worried.”

“You don’t think I listen to her? What do you think I do every day, Pepper? I might miss some things admittedly because it’s very hard to keep up with her. Sometimes it changes every hour. The only things she seems to be sure on are: cuddling with me whenever possible and her charity work.”

Pepper ended with, “Well, I don’t think her ‘outbursts’ come from nowhere.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked out.

Tony’s gaze slid to Happy, the two of them locking eyes, put off by her attitude.

“What… the hell just happened?”

“I don’t know, boss,” Happy admitted.

“Fucking women…” Tony trailed off, looking lost in thought. He then asked curiously, leaning forward towards Happy, “Do you think I don’t listen?” Happy gave him a knowing look and Tony snorted, waving it off. “That’s what I thought. If anything, it’s Y/N that doesn’t listen to me. Well, I am not having any more unpleasant conversations on an empty stomach.” He leaned back across his desk towards his phone again. Clicking the button to his secretary, he said, “Angelica, tell Y/N I’ll be out in a second to go to lunch.”

“She’s not out here, Mr. Stark. But—”

“What?” Tony demanded.

“She’s not—”

“I caught that,” Tony interrupted irritated.

“But I can page downstairs. She went down there with Mr. Rogers.”

“Why the fuck is Star Spangled here?” Tony grated, shoving himself away from his desk. “And why is he taking her all over the building?”

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21, @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @kvzctam @farihafangirls, @teenageregression @mrsnegan25 @lilacs-lavender @agustdowney @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @emmariexx

#tony stark x reader #dark!tony stark #dark tony stark #dark marvel fic #dark marvel #my shit

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hajimewhore · 3 years

Text

Body Swap 👫 (Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader) ➸Rated T, fem!Reader, 1.8k words ➷Humor, awkwardness, lots of swearing, more d*ck talk but mild mild nothing goes on, just very uncomfy, the secondhand embarrassment is real in there (like every part honestly) ➷ Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, ✈Part 4, Part 5

“Uh, this… isn’t what it looks like?”

Come’s your kneejerk response to Tooru’s exaggeratedly disgusted expression, you can tell he’s about 0.2 seconds away from throwing a fit.

“I went out of my way to wait for you, because I’m that good of a friend, you’re welcome. But you were taking so long, I figured I’d come in and drag you guys out. So. can someone please explain,” he shoots you (Hajime in his perception) a hard look, “What the hell is this?!”

Tooru is flushed in the face, and though his stellar performance and comical gestures were entertaining, you balk a bit at his outburst.

It’s a bit intense, and you feel a nervous sweat down your back. You can seldom say you’ve been on the receiving end of Tooru’s anger, and your struggling to come up with the right words to save face.

“I can explain?”

And what you came up with turned out to be excruciatingly underwhelming, and the baffled look Hajime sends you tells you that he also found your response pathetic.

Being in Hajime’s body with your hands clutched at his skirt, pulling away as if the garment was crafted using hot coals the second Tooru made an entrance, You’ll admit... it looked highly incriminating, and you’re going have some painful explaining to do.

“Well it looks like you’ve got your dirty hands on my bestfriend,” Tooru opts to refer to your actual self as his bestfriend, “What, Iwa-chan, can’t get any action? Trying to cop a feel before school? I didn’t think you were like that!”

He finishes the first segment of his rant with a huff. Under normal circumstances, you’d be appreciative of the rank up on his bestfriend list. Currently though, Tooru is getting under your skin, and as young man, you’re a little offended that he’s talking to you like that.

Tooru takes two strides (curse his long legs) across the threshold of your house, eyes narrowing in on you.

You glances to Hajime to ease the situation, he’s the only one that can say anything to help alleviate the situation.

Tooru follows your gaze, eyeing skeptically for an explanation. Hajime clears his throat, and you think you just might be saved. He’s always been quick to resolve altercations, whether its verbally or physically.

“....Hajime wanted me to wear my skirt shorter, but I said it was against school dress code.”

Hajime states as a matter of fact, and you gasp, what the fuck Hajime, but Tooru’s absolutely scandalized gasp overshadows your own.

“You asshole, that’s not—”

Tooru is quick to interrupt you,

“You absolute heathen Iwa-chan! Who knew you’d turn out to be such a dog!”

Tooru snags your collar with a tight fist, and you instinctively wrap your hand around his.

Uh... you’re not gonna have to fight Tooru, are you? It’s Hajime’s body, so you’d gladly let him get bruised up as retribution for that comment, but you’re not too keen on getting punched in the face by Tooru protecting your own dignity.

“It’s not like that!”

You scramble for a way to dig yourself out of this one. Tooru’s locked his glare on you, exuding pressure.

“Then what is it like Iwa-chan?”

You glance from Tooru’s scowl to see Hajime’s smug expression behind him, your brow ticks at the sight of it.

‘That little...’

Weren’t you just saying last night how excellent of an actress you were? Time to put that to the test.

You forcefully remove Tooru’s fist from your collar, adjusting your tie. Tooru allows you to gather yourself for a moment, scorn still etched across his features.

Averting your eyes to the side with a serious, contemplative gaze, you muster all the dramatics you can to pull off your next line. Internally, you think smugly that you must appear picture perfect for a drama noir film. If only it were raining too, that would set the atmosphere ideally. But an actress must work with what she’s got.

Tooru seems decently invested in your dramatics, and Hajime is looking at you with contempt, as if he drank sour milk. Now that a pregnant pause has settled in and you’ve garnered the crowd’s interest, you sigh, long and wistfully,

“She never wears her skirt like that... I thought she might be struggling with her self confidence, so I was just trying to make her feel comfortable with herself. I’m such a brute though, I guess I got carried away.”

You cast your gaze sheepishly to Tooru, rapping your knuckles lightly against the top of your head to emphasize your point.

Tooru blinks at the explanation, takes in the information, considers the evidence in his mind.

His eyes begin to water, as expected, tears brimming at his long lashes as he spins around to pull Hajime (AKA you) into a bone crushing hug. He’s got a suffocating grip on him, all the while crying about ‘Hajime’s’ reasoning.

“I didn’t even notice! Forgive your stupid bestfriend, I should’ve said something too! How did I miss that?!” his dramatics always seem to up yours, Tooru is currently stealing best-in-show from you, “Waaaah, I’m sorry, you’re perfect the way you are!”

He cries into what he thinks is your shoulder, no doubt using the fabric to wipe his face, much to Hajime’s disdain. Meanwhile, Hajime is glaring hard and venomously at you for that bullshit display.

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

He mouths, and you stick your tongue out, giving him the cheekiest expression he’d never want to see on his own face.

“Whew, alright,” Tooru straightens, clearing his throat and flicking his last tear off with the swipe of a hand, “Now we really have to go. Hike that skirt up and let’s get on with our day.”

He’s back to picture perfect Oikawa Tooru, no evidence of his outburst to be seen (asides from the wet spot on Hajime’s shoulder).

You try to grunt in agreement as casual and Hajime-like as you can.

For the sake of getting to school on time without any further incidents, Hajime pulls the uniform skirt up a tad higher, vowing to lower it when you fucking nuisances are out of the picture.

Your final class is almost over, and you’re feeling.... extremely uncomfortable.

Not because the school day went bad, no, you found it easy to converse with his classmates and teachers. Notetaking was relatively simple, you’re learning the same material as Hajime anyways.

You’re physically uncomfortable, and the pressure of your bladder about to burst is driving you crazy.

‘I can’t take it any more!’

You shoot your hand up, and your teacher gives you an odd look before you excuse yourself to the restroom.

You head to the furthest end of the building, the women’s restroom is generally vacant so the men’s should be the same, yeah? And you definitely don’t want to be caught in the women’s, despite how empty it could possibly be. So with a heavy sense of shame, you waddle into the men’s room.

If someone’s in there, it’ll be fine. Just be in, and out. No big deal.

Oh.

Oh fuck no.

“Iwaizumi, hey.”

Matsukawa fucking Issei glances up to the door you just waltzed through. Matsukawa Issei, middle for the Seijou men’s team, tall and messy haired flirt, the same Matsukawa Issei that helps you with your blocks and techniques, friend of Tooru and Hajime... and he’s staring straight at you with a casual nod of his head.

You try to return it as casually as possible, despite your bones and every being shaking in you.

‘Fuck, I forgot men I actually know use the men’s room.’

“...Mattsu–” nope not Mattsun (so much for being casual, you almost fucked up the way Hajime refers to Matsukawa), “–kawa.”

He raises an eyebrow for the briefest second, before returning his attention to the urinal, unzipping his pants. Un. Zipping. His. Pants.

He doesn’t give you much time to dwell on the slip up, already entering conversation about how your day is, to which you give short response to, trying not to shuffle your feet to the urinal. You really don’t want him to catch on to your discomfort.

You heavily contemplate just going into a stall, but you think that might be weird for guys to do. Now that you think about it, isn’t it weird to piss in the urinal directly next to the other guy? If you chose one spaced out would he get offended? Goddamnit, you never learned men’s room etiquette. Screw this whole situation, and screw Matsukawa Issei for needing to relieve himself at this exact time.

Well, it’s too late now, you’re already standing at the one directly next to Mattsun. You can’t exactly take your sweet time picking another urinal and shuffling about while Mattsun is here engaging you in conversation about his fucking math class.

If it was weird to choose the spot beside him, Mattsun doesn’t say anything about it, going about his business.

Thankfully, if you could even be thankful for a situation like this, you’re so overwhelmed by Mattsun’s unexpected presence that it’s keeping your mind off the having-Hajime’s-dick thing. The discomfort is still there, but you have to pee so badly, you’re not too bothered by it at the moment. You’re also intently focusing on not blushing, willing the blood flow to your cheeks to cooperate with you for once.

Simultaneously, you’re concentrating on not looking at Matsukawa fucking Issei’s junk. You’re getting good at multitasking.

But apparently, not good enough. Your willpower wasn’t as strong as you thought, and your focus slips for a moment as you gaze down and–was someone going to tell you that Matsukawa fucking Issei was HUNG?

“Is there something wrong with my dick?”

You shoot your eyes back up to Mattsun, who’s tilting his head with a thick brow raised.

‘Hajime, if you hear about this, I am so sorry.’

“Nope, it’s perfectly fine,” you respond curtly, before coming to the realization that Hajime probably wouldn’t like you telling his friends that their dicks are ‘perfectly fine’, “I mean, no. It’s seriously ugly.”

You cringe at your save, if you could call it that, and Mattsun (finally) zips up. He casts a momentarily offended look at you.

“I think you mean ‘seriously huge’.”

He laughs deeply, heading to the sink. You completely agree with that sentiment, and you’re glad he knows he’s well endowed, but it’s best to keep those thoughts to yourself.

You follow suit, laughing as sarcastically as you can without letting your voice crack.

“Whatever, man.”

You proceed to have awkward sink talk with Mattsun, and upon exiting the restroom you thank the gods when you see his class is the opposite way to yours.

“See you at practice.”

He waves, and when Mattsun is out of sight, you sigh in immense relief.

Just how many dicks are you going to see before you swap back? You sob internally, returning to your class.

But that does bring up a point, Men’s Volleyball Practice.

You’re marginally grateful for that encounter with Mattsun, because now you’re acutely aware of the locker room changing time before and after practice.

You bury your face in your arms, taking note to sprint like hell and get to practice early. You’ll be damned if you have to spend any amount of time struggling to avoid eye contact with your friends’ abs, as well as Hajime’s other teammates'.

A/N: AHAHA the CHAOS. Anyways, we all know Matsukawa got that horsec*ck. Thanks for tuning in for this week’s episode of y/n’s awkward panic. Iwaizumi Is So Done.

taglist: @cybergovl @thatoneoddgirl8 @keijikunn

Masterlist, Part 5

#haikyuu!!#hq!!#haikyuu fic #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Quarantine On Crack...yet again

PART ONE

Until Dawn Gang + Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Underage Drinking, Shameless Flirting

Genre: Crack, Humor

Summary: Time to check on our favorite gang who are still quarantined together and have still surprisingly not murdered one another. The lodge is still intact, which is promising. And everyone still has all seven of their limbs. How long will this simulation of peace last for is the real question.

Requested by my dear Until Dawn Anon who I haven’t heard from in so long 🥺 Hii dear! I have missed you tremendously! Here we are again to witness the craziness of our babies and I hope you’ll join me on the rollercoaster once again! Sorry it has taken me so long to write the long-ago-promised part 2 to the crack fic but here it finally is! Hope you enjoy it! Love and miss you, Vy ❤

“Alright folks, the delivery has arrived!“ I announce as Josh, Sam and I stumble through the front door of the lodge, each one of us carrying large boxes of food and toiletries. Bless the Washingtons for still sending us food, if I were them, Lord knows I’d either forget to do so or simply not do it because I didn’t feel like it. Hey, I’m not saying I hate these people, I’m just insinuating that they would not among my priorities had I been the one responsible to send them food. They should be in that case - but I’m being very honest when I say they wouldn’t be.

“Finally!“ Jess and Emily are so in sync for two people who supposedly can’t stand each other, it’s scary. Not that I wasn’t already scared of them to begin with. I just have a hard time dealing with them. But they are good in bed so I keep them around...

“What do you mean ‘finally’? We still have food from last week.“ Matt points out, a slight frown on his face when he lifts his head from the book he’s reading.

“We ran out of coffee capsules, duh!“ Jess says as though she’s addressing the most obvious thing to a person with very low IQ.

Matt does the smart thing of rolling his eyes and returning to his book. Speaking of which, I’m sending another blessing to the Washingtons for having the GRAND library here. I know I would’ve gone nuts and murdered half of these bitches if I didn’t have a book or two to keep me busy. That’s how things are with me, I either have a book to read or I’m committing a murder rampage. No in-between, at least not with these people.

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs attracts our attention. Mike, Mr. Golden Boy comes down the stairs and plops down next to Jess, wrapping his arm around here, “There better be some beer in there.” He winks at me. Yeah, that’s Mike alright - has his arm around one girl, winks at another.

“I swear to God, if you two try to have a sword fight with empty beer bottles again, one of you is getting sent to the cabin.“ Josh warns us, taking on the parent role for once.

“Whoa there, Dr. Phil! Send us to the ranch next, why don’t ya!“ I roll my eyes at him, seeing his expression beg to change into a smile at my joke while he’s trying to maintain his no-funny-business look.

“Can we go unbox these things already? My arms are dead by now.“ Sam complains and doesn’t wait for an answer from us as she takes off with a rather fast pace towards the kitchen.

Josh and I are quick to follow. Much to my dismay, in order to reach the kitchen, we have to pass by where Emily is sitting. Since I haven’t already put in a request for a restraining order against her, passing within grabbing distance of her is risky as all hell. But you know me, I love risks. Passing in front of her I get ballsy and even give her the finger as I go.

“You’ll regret that, Y/N! You’ll fucking regret it!“ She calls after me in teasingly threatening manner that almost makes me chuckle, however I keep my features as still as the ones of a statue and I don’t turn back around.

Sam and Josh have already cut the boxes open and have started moving the products from the box onto the kitchen counter and island. I grab the box cutter from its spot near the sink and cut the box open as well. To Josh’s dismay but my incredible luck, there are indeed a few beer bottles in my box. I cheer silently as I take them to the cooler.

“You know, Sam...“ Josh’s voice interrupts the silence just as I’m about to close the cooler. I’m honestly intrigued by what he has to say to Sam, and eavesdropping might be wrong, but it’s not like the fuckers can’t see me standing five fucking feet away! - so I pretend I’m organizing the cooler so I don’t have to return to the center of the kitchen where the two of them are crouched by their packages. A quick look over my shoulder confirms that they are indeed having a *MOMENT*, one I wouldn’t want to interrupt.

“Yes, Josh?“ Sam responds, giving me an urge to go grab some popcorn before any more progression happens. I know these two have eyes for one another, but they are both massive hypocrites! The are doing the very thing they hold against Chris and Ashley: hiding their feelings. Since I’m Josh’s unlicensed and unpaid therapist, I have a bit more intel on what’s going on in his head. It’s basically: 30% what am I doing with my life; 30% I need a drink; 40% Sam. You’d be surprised if you knew how often he mentions her when he’s venting. I’ve encouraged him to make a move countless times but it’s like trying to talk me into not killing Mike - impossible.

“You could melt the snow outside.” It takes me all my might to hold back from facepalming. Oh God, if this is what he thinks I meant when I said ‘tell her how you feel‘ he couldn’t be more wrong.

“Ok, lovebirds!“ I have never been happier to hear Chris’ voice. He saved me the trouble of having to step in and end the awkwardness myself. I turn around with a what I hope is a casual and friendly and totally not distressed smile. Behind Chris stand Ashley and Mike. “Need any help?“

“Yeah, you guys could come in handy.“ I tell them, waving them over almost desperately, “Ok, one of you help me with the rest of the things in the box. The other two can organize the shit that’s on the counter.“

I duck back down to continue unboxing. There’s bags of dried fruit, tea, the coffee capsules Jess was talking about, some spices which I’m not sure why they’re there but I’m not complaining.

“Heard you needed help.“ Oh for fuck’s sake, Mike again. Why couldn’t it be Chris or Ashley, or Satan for that matter. I’m really not in the mood to be cleaning blood off the kitchen floor tiles.

I tilt my head to the side and it’s only then that I realize how close he is to me. My eyes immediately travel to where I left the box cutter. “Back it up, Michael, or....“ FUCK IT’S NOT THERE. I swear I left it there! Where the fuck is it?!

“Or what?“ He reads my confusion and holds up his hand that is holding the box cutter I’m searching for. I’m afraid the more time we spend under the same roof the more experience he’ll have in defending himself and disarming me.

“Motherfucker...“ I growl and grab the tea and coffee capsules and stand up, “It’s a pandemic, damn it. Six feet apart at all times, buddy. I wish you’d put a mask over that mug of yours too.“ I narrow my eyes as I look down at him, resisting the desire to kick him.

“Only if you were the mask.“ Oh this fucker...he even has the audacity to stand up and step closer. Why are the four other people not noticing this? Ok yeah, cause they don’t wanna be witnesses to the murder of their old class prez. I got it.

“Six feet apart or six feet under, Munroe. Your call.“ He cockily waves the box cutter, not as a threat but as a remainder that I don’t have a weapon. “Bold of you to assume I need that to kill you.“

“She could always snap your neck.“ Chris pipes in.

“Or poke your eyes out.“ Ash does too.

“Or strangle you.“ Sam adds.

“The latter doesn’t sound so bad...“ He smirks at me, earning himself mortified looks from the peanut gallery.

“I. Hear. FLIRTING.“ Jess’ voice cuts through the tension that has built up in the kitchen. Mike and I turn to the doorway simultaneously as well as every other head in the room.

There is Jess looking like a pissed off cartoon toddler - aka: my escape.

“And I hear the void calling me.“ I catch her off-guard and put the items I was carrying in her arms, “I better go see what it wants from me. Byeeee.“

I all but hightail it out of there. I mean, say what you want about Mike’s shitty personality, or lack of personality all-together, but the fucker’s got sexappeal. Not that I’d ever admit it or fall under its effects.

In the living room I find Hannah and Beth with no traces of Emily or Matt. I feel slightly relieved, to be perfectly honest. Seeing the perfect stress relieving opportunity, I sit down next to Beth on the couch and lie down, placing my head in her lap. “Hi!” I give her a cheeky smile.

“You’re the Devil.“ Beth mutters without giving me as much as a glance. I turn to wave at Hannah and that’s when I see the chess board set up on the coffee table. So that’s what she’s so focused on.

“Oh please, you’ll make me blush.“ I fake a giggle and blow her a kiss while she remains completely unbothered.

“Whatever’s going on over there - I DON’T LIKE IT!“ Josh says menacingly as him, Sam, Chris and Ashley enter the living room.

“ME NEITHER“ Oh no, that’s Emily’s voice. Her and Matt have just walked into the lodge after another stroll - they have those when they wanna make out in private. Speaking of making out, I don’t see Jess and Mike anywhere, much to my relief - one of them wants to kill me at the moment but they both wanna sleep with me too so you get why it’s a situation I’d like to avoid.

“No jealousy, guys, please. I love you all the same!“ I prep myself up in a half-sitting position to give them an apologetic but seductive look when a pillow whacks me in the face, “What the hell?!“

“I thought you loved me more!“ Beth barks back angrily.

Well, I’m in some serious trouble now. Not only is Beth DEADLY when angry, but she also has two siblings who are more than capable of kicking my ass.

“I do! I really do, Beth, I swear!“ My apologies are put to an end by another hit with a pillow. “You know I do!“ I sit up completely and turn to look at Beth who has turned the opposite direction. “Pwease?” I give her the best puppy-dog eyes I can pull of despite feeling utterly ridiculous.

“So you do have a favorite member after all? And it’s not me? Wow, Y/N.“ Ash glares at me as well, crossing her arms and also turning away from me.

“I SECOND THAT.“ Emily stomps her foot down and storms out of the room

Oh fuck.

“I do too, honestly. I’m really hurt, Y/N.“ Matt the person I can always trust to be on my side has turned his back to me in this time of need.

Oh fuck squared.

“You’re in some deep shit now.“ Hannah laughs almost evilly as she leans back in the armchair she’s sitting in.

“Josh, could you set something on fire again? Preferably me this time.“ I mutter with a monotone voice. I’d like to picture there’s a rain cloud above my head just pouring down on me. And zaps me with lightning every now and then for good measure.

“Nah, that’d be too easy on you.“ This motherfucker....

“Oh so you WANT me to tell a specific someone what you think and say about them when they aren’t around?“ I change the meaning of ‘death glare‘ with this look I give him. I’m sure that if I keep staring at him like this long enough I’ll burn holes into his skull.

After a few moments of still silence and intense glaring he finally breaks, “Alright fine, I’ll get the deodorant and lighter.“

I sigh in relief. I suppose there are worse ways to leave this world...

“No!“

“Don’t you dare!“

“No way!“

Beth, Ashley and Matt all jump up as soon as Josh gives any effort to stand up.

“Washington, I swear to God!“ There go Emily and Jess in sync again as they both enter the room armed. Jess is only in her underwear but we don’t talk about that. What’s important is that she’s carrying the box cutter from before while Emily is armed with a dull butter knife. Knowing how determined she can be, I wouldn’t underestimate her power due to the lack of sharpness to her weapon.

Josh is rightfully stunned by the sudden turn of events and sits his ass back down with hands raised in the air. I almost feel bad for him. Almost.

“Y’all love me!“ I smile at them, putting a hand over my heart.

Jess turns to me in a split-second, angry as fuck, and points the box cutter at me. “Y/N, I swear to God-”

“Alright, alright, alright...“ I too raise my hands in surrender.

This is how shit goes down over here. Just pure fucking CHAOS, a lot of drinking, flirting and sex jokes. And so much wondering how we’re all friends.

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chipper9906 · 3 years

Text

Heal The Cracks Within My Heart - Chapter 9: No Place Like Home

< - - - Previous Chapter

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR LOKI SEASON 1 EPISODE 6 ‘FOR ALL TIME. ALWAYS.’

Pairings: Loki/Sylvie

Rating: General Audiences

Chapter Word Count: 6,230

Overall Word Count: 78,710

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress (9/?)

Chapter Preview:

It was… a difficult situation. He could put himself in her shoes, given that it was also his family. But… it wasn’t. Not really. And he knows that, if the roles were reversed and it were him sat there, there wasn’t much Sylvie could say to help. Would he be appreciative that she was trying to help? Of course, there was no doubt about that. But sometimes, in situations like this, it’s best to just sit and… feel.

So that’s what he does.

Link To Fic

Click Below To Keep Reading

* * *

The throne was empty.

Which wasn’t entirely too strange. It wasn’t like the ruler of Asgard would spend their entire life physically sat on the throne. There were only two other guards in the room, given that it was empty and didn’t need much guarding. Those two guards stood at the end of the stairs leading to the chair of the throne, situated on either side.

Loki and Sylvie’s entrance didn’t seem to phase the two guards, who looked quite a bit like golden statues as they stood perfectly still in place, weapons held firmly in their grasp pressed against the ground. Loki cast Sylvie a worried look out of the corner of his eye before the two separated, Loki taking place on the left side of the door, whilst Sylvie stood to the right.

This was always a possibility — them having to keep up this little guard charade to blend in. Only problem was… they were working on the clock, here. Enchantment didn’t last forever, and so it wouldn’t be long before the two guards whose uniform they were… borrowing… would awaken and alert the others to their presence. The hope would be that, by that point, they would have either already had a much-needed conversation with whoever was ruler, or… had gotten the hell out of here upon a less than successful conversation with the ruler of Asgard…

A minute passed.

Then five.

Then twenty.

Then an hour.

Loki shuffled uncomfortably in his armor, a minuscule action he hoped the other guards opposite them wouldn’t notice. He had never quite noticed before how unnaturally still they had always stood. They never even once seemed to itch a scratch…

“...you didn’t see them with your own eyes, as I have! We can’t just dismiss something like this!”

The voice belonged to a woman, smooth in tone with the sophistication that most residents of Asgard’s had. Loki did not recognize the voice, but there was something about it that tugged at something within him — like it was someone he should know, but… doesn’t.

“Perhaps it is best that you do not assume I am dismissing it.”

Now that… was a voice he recognized.

It was attached to a face he recognized very well. It was… more difficult than he thought, seeing his father again. The last he had seen of his father was shortly after he had awakened from a sleep that would restore him to the strength that made his father as much the admirable legend he was described to be. The last he had seen of his father… the last look on his father's face as he looked to him… was nothing more than disappointment.

Odin stormed into the room, a less than pleased look etched onto his face as he made his way to the throne. Trailing right behind him was the woman to who the voice belonged, keeping hot on Odin’s heels. The very second Loki laid eyes on her, he knew who she was. He didn’t need Sylvie’s quiet, desperate-sounding whisper to the right of him to know; the trailing red cape, silver armor, and flowing blonde locks told him all he needed to know.

“Thor…”

Odin climbed the steps to his throne, looking like he wanted nothing more than this brewing argument with his daughter to be stopped before it has a chance to start.

“Father, please, if you’d just listen to me--”

“I am listening!” Odin’s voice boomed around the throne room, powerful enough for even the guards at the bottom of the stairs to wince. “I have listened, and I have told you: It is not of yet a perceivable threat--”

“How can you say that? Those soldiers — if they can even be called that — shouldn’t have even been able to get to Asgard! They did not come from the bi-frost -- you know this, I know this, and so I do not understand how you can just… bury your head in the sand!”

“I am keeping peace.” Odin’s voice was eerily calm, yet held the same power that this Thor’s agitated sounding yells had. “Sometimes… we must understand when is the right time to display our strength… and when to wait before taking drastic action. This time is such an occurrence that calls for the latter.”

“A potential enemy has discovered a way into our home that even we do not know of!” Thor hissed at Odin from the bottom of the stairs. “They are able to come and go as they please, and we have no ideas as to what they want from us.”

“And what is it you would do in my steed?” Odin asks. “Declare war on an enemy we do not even know? Go searching across the nine realms for this ‘enemy’ when, by your account, they do not take up the appearance of any such people you’ve seen before?”

“I would do something!” Thor retaliated. “Something other than ignoring the problem and waiting for it to disappear on its own! When will that be, father? When our home has been burnt to the ground? When our lands have been taken, and our people slaughtered by those you claim ‘are not as yet a threat to--”

“Enough!”

The command reverberates around the room, echoing back at them from every angle. More than anything, Odin looked tired from where he was sat, resting his head on his hand, pulling at the strands of his beard as he looks down at his daughter. Thor… did not look tired. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, it just… wasn’t the weary kind of tired.

She was pissed.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?”

Loki wasn’t sure if Sylvie’s Thor was braver than the Thor he knows, or… just as hot-headed. Both seemed to be the case, taking into account what she had just said to Odin, to their father.

“That has to be it, hasn’t it?” Thor continues. From atop the throne, Odin has gone very, very still. “You’d rather pretend everything’s fine than go digging around and find out there is something to worry about. You’re so scared about it happening again that you’re refusing to take those risks and lose--”

Odin didn’t cut Thor off with words this time. Nor did he use physical violence against his daughter. All he needed to do was stand from the throne, and that was enough for Thor to stop talking completely. Odin moved slowly down the stairs of the throne and, to Thor’s credit, she did not shy away from her father’s unnerving stare.

It wasn’t until Odin stood right in front of her, staring down at his daughter with that detached, almost deranged sheen of anger in his eyes that Thor, wisely, averted her gaze. “Not. Another. Word.”

It was at this moment that a guard came scurrying along from the side, appearing in Loki and Sylvie’s line of vision as he hurried towards the throne. He reaches his king’s side, who barely tilted his head towards the soldier in recognition of his presence.

“Your Highness, there’s been an attack,” says the guard, trying to gather some of his composure after, presumably, running the entire way here. “Two guards were found disrobed and in a state of unconsciousness. We believe the intruders may still be within the palace.”

This… certainly wasn’t the best of time to be discovered, what with their father appearing quite as irritated as he was and, even worse, what seemed to be a potential attack on Asgard occurring at the same time.

Judging by the look Sylvie shot him after the guard spoke, she was thinking along the same lines as he was. But what could they do? They might be able to slip away without being noticed, but that was unlikely. Staying was equally as bad of an option, since it wouldn’t be long before Odin or Thor figured out that—

“It’s happened again. You can’t deny it this time, father,” said Thor. “And now they have our armor. They could be hidden within the ranks, and we’d be none the wiser.”

…Figured out that.

Thor shoots out her arm to the side, keeping her steely gaze focused solely on her father. The echoing, metal sound that Loki came to loathe yet always made him jealous filled the air, along with the usual static and power that came with it.

Mjolnir comes flying in from the side of the room, landing squarely in Thor’s outstretched palm with a satisfying ‘thunk.’ Thor’s arm barely moves from the force of the high-speed all-powerful weapon landing in her hand. She holds it tightly in her fist, keeping it close to her side.

“I want the entire palace on lockdown. No one is to leave or enter without being screened by me first,” Odin dishes out commands to the guard who had delivered the news. “You two!”

Loki stands at attention, hoping that the nerves he was feeling weren’t displayed on his face. It seemed that this was it. If Odin recognized Sylvie as the one standing guard next to him, then they were somehow going to have to explain everything in a timely enough manner that Odin doesn’t just… immediately assume that his daughter and some random man are responsible for these deaths.

“Send out the order that I want every soldier gathered here immediately. Keep an eye out for those you don’t recognize, and report to me if you see any unusual behavior.”

It was nothing more than distance and pure luck that saved them. Odin was too far away that, miraculously, he saw them only as two guards, rather than seeing the faces sat within the metal, guarding his life. Or… perhaps his father always saw them that way.

Either way, it was an out they were more than happy to take. Loki and Sylvie turned simultaneously towards one another, feeling oddly relieved yet frustrated at the same time. Relieved, because they had somehow gotten away with this, but… frustrated that it had to come to this. This was Sylvie’s family, his family in a way, and they were now having to run from them.

Loki leans close to Sylvie to whisper as they push open the door. “Perhaps it would be best if we take the risk and just tell him you’re--”

The door is pushed open from the other side. Both Loki and Sylvie drop their hands away in shock, tightening their grips around their stolen weapons. The door swings open, and they are greeted by a lone member of the Einherjar. The young man looked about as shocked to see them on the other side of the door as they were, but in true Asgardian fashion, seems to recover quite quickly.

That is, until, his eyes land on Sylvie.

Of course it wouldn’t be that easy for them. When was it ever? Whatever composure the Einherjar had managed to reclaim disappeared from his face, disbelief flickering in his eyes as his mind connected to the dots as to who he was looking at. Loki holds back the annoyed curse he so wanted to mutter under his breath, shuffling closer to Sylvie in preparation for… he wasn’t too sure, actually. A fight? Them enchanting their way out of here? Imprisonment?

“Loki?” The young man whispers, his eyes darting up and down Sylvie, that look of disbelief still stuck to his face. Sylvie tensed at the name — still clearly displeased with being referred to by that name — though the brief flicker of annoyance she displays quickly changes to confusion as the Einherjar removes his helmet, letting it fall to the ground with a painfully loud clang of metal.

And then, to make matters even more confusing, the Einherjar kisses Sylvie.

Although, the word ‘kiss’ is an unfit term for it. It couldn’t have lasted for more than half a second before the young Einherjar soldier was simultaneously being shoved off by Sylvie and yanked away by Loki. It was rather embarrassing how quickly Loki’s vision had turned red at the sight, barely holding back the outburst of magic boiling away inside of him that he wanted to direct at this soldier.

The combined force of Sylvie’s shove and Loki’s grab pulls the man off balance, sending him crashing to the ground in another obnoxious cacophony of metal crashing together.

“What is this?” Odin’s booming voice comes from just behind them. Both Sylvie and Loki freeze up at the voice, looking between each other and the poor, bewildered-looking soldier still on the ground.

They slowly turn, coming face to face with Odin and Thor, who both wore scarily similar expressions of protective rage on their face. Of course, this rage only lasts as long as their eyes are on the Loki they don’t know. The very second their eyes switch over to Sylvie, the anger on their face slips away. Thor very nearly drops her hammer in her shock, whilst Odin takes a stunned step away from the two of them, recoiling like he had been physically hit. Thor reaches out a hand to stop her father from crashing into her, steadying him as she keeps her gaze firmly on the two of them.

The soldier that had been splayed out on the floor for most of this reunion jumped back up to his feet. He scooped up his helmet and weapon from the floor as he stood, hastily shoving the helmet back on to keep presentable in front of his king.

“What… What is this…?” Thor asks, momentarily stuck in her stupor. “It’s… it’s not possible.”

“Another trick, perhaps.” Odin seemed to have recovered from the shock, although still appeared somewhat rattled.

“It’s... a rather complicated story…” Loki begins awkwardly. “We rather hoped to talk to you in, um… more ideal conditions…”

The doors slam open, startling Loki and Sylvie, who whip around on the spot. It’s with sinking stomachs that they see that beyond the door was rows upon rows of Einherjar, ready to march into the room and seize the two of them if and when the command is dished out.

Which, as it turns out, was right at this moment. “Seize them!”

The Einherjar who had tried to be a little too friendly with Sylvie moved first. His hand wrapped around Loki’s arm, but the strength of one guard was no match for the son of a king. Almost on instinct does Loki bring up the shield in his hand across the man’s face, forcing him to release his tight grip. Sylvie grits her teeth, dropping the annoyingly long spear to the ground and drawing her sword, feeling more comfortable with a familiar weapon in her hand.

“Please…” Sylvie tries to get through to her father and sister, standing half turned towards them and the awaiting army. “We didn’t come here to hurt any of you. We came because… we need your help. And because you need ours.”

Thor’s eyes had drifted over to the weapon she still held in her hands. An almost pained look crossed her face, looking over to her father. Odin’s face, on the other hand, had gone… blank. It was impossible to read any emotion he might have been feeling on his face.

“Father—”

Sylvie gets cut off as the pole part of a spear harshly clangs into her hand, forcing her to drop her sword. Loki can do nothing but tense up, ready to spring into action from the hit before they’re swarmed by the rest of the Einherjar. Hands grasp him from all sides, pulling him away from Sylvie and forcing him down to his knees. It wouldn’t take much more than an explosion of his magic to force all these hands off him, except… not only was fighting their way out of this unlikely, but it would also be a rather stupid move to make, considering they were trying to make allies here. If they could just explain things, if Odin would give them a chance to talk.

“Father, please—”

“You… are not my daughter,” Odin spits, his tone ice cold and cutting. “You do not get to call me such a name.”

Thor steps closer to her father, looking a bit more uncertain about everything. “Father, we can’t just… I mean, it’s… it’s Loki.”

“Do not let your judgment be clouded by sentiment,” Odin tells her. “This is not your sister—”

“I am!” Sylvie pleads, and it pains Loki to see her so… vulnerable; forced onto her knees, desperation shining in her eyes as she stares to a family that does not see her as… her. “I was taken from you! When I was only a child, the TVA stole me away—”

“The TVA?” Thor asks. “What realm do they come from?”

Loki sighs. “Again, complicated story—”

“I do not wish to hear these lies.” Odin turns away from them. Loki despised how familiar the look of disgust on his father's face was.

Thor watches her father walks away, face pinched in frustration. “Father, they might know—”

“Anything they tell us now will only be more lies.” Odin pauses, turning to cast his gaze over Loki and Sylvie. He only hold his gaze for a few seconds before shifting it, looking up to the Einherjar that stood waiting. “Take them down to the dungeons. We will get the truth out of them.”

“Hang on—” Loki grunts in pain as the guards less than gracefully yank him up to his feet, twisting his arms painfully behind his back. He looks over to Sylvie, who looks more pained by the sight of her father walking away than by the guards squeezing grip on her arms. Thor dutifully follows after her father, Mjolnir still heavy in her grasp as she too walks away from them.

“Thor!”

Sylvie’s last-ditch cry of her name brings her to a halt. Thor pauses for a moment with her back to them, eyes closed as she takes in a deep breath. Slowly, she turns to face her sister, the two of them locking eyes.

“It’s me.”

Seconds tick by in silence, the two sisters looking to one another — one pleading, the other searching. Searching for… some type of sign. Some hint of truth, some way that the woman knelt before her was truly her sister. Then, Thor’s eyes drift over to Loki. Her eyes narrow, darting between him and Sylvie, raising her chin in the air as she looks them over.

This last look is all Thor gives them before she walks out of the room, leaving without uttering a single word to her sister.

That last look is all Sylvie can think about as the guards drag them away.

* * *

He had been pacing up and down the confined space of the room for quite some time now. There wasn’t exactly much else to do. Loki would compare it to an animal trapped in a cage, except… well, that was what was happening, wasn’t it?

This was where he was supposed to end up.

That was all he could think of. Back in the TVA, being shown a reel of his… what had Mobius called it? His ‘greatest hits?’ Situated in those few clips of betrayal and ‘seeking purpose’ had been him, stood right in one of these cells, all too gleefully dishing out help that would lead to his mother's death.

The circumstances as to how he ended up here were different from the file, and yet… here he was. Here they were.

The only bright side to their imprisonment was that the guards had placed both him and Sylvie in the same cell. That wasn’t to say they didn’t try to separate them. It only took a few well-placed punches and kicks — he might have even seen Sylvie bite one of them at one point — before the guards had decided that separating them was more trouble than it was worth and shoved them into this one.

Only one Einherjar stood guard now. The very same guard who, for some strange reason, had thought it would be a good idea to try and kiss Sylvie. He was also the one who, before they had been shoved in here, had taken any and all items they were carrying. Including the damn TemPad. Both of them, in fact. It was foolish, really, for the one guard left to… well, to guard them, was also the one keeping hold of their confiscated items. If -- when -- they find a way out of here, they’ll make quick work of taking the young man down and taking back what was taken from them.

Which is the only reason he shoots the Einherjar a hate-filled scowl every time he steps up the shimmering gold force-field that separates them; it’s only because he has what they need to make their escape. It has nothing to do with what transpired earlier… or the way he kept looking at Sylvie in a way that Loki did not like in the slightest.

Unlike the other members of the Einherjar, this particular guard does not remain emotionless in the face of Loki’s glares. It almost took Loki by surprise when the man actually glared back at him, enough so that he almost stopped glaring himself.

But, it’s like he said. Other than pacing around the tiny room and sending looks that promised of suffering to the one guard watching over them… there wasn’t much else to do.

Despite the few chairs and an actual bed that accessorized their cell, Sylvie had instead decided to take a seat on the floor. She was at least sat by a wall so that she could lean her back against it, her knees bent and pulled up close to her chest. It was remarkable how quickly the anger simmering in Loki’s chest whenever he looked to the Einherjar melted away at the sight of her there, staring blankly at the wall opposite. He wasn’t sure if she was lost in thoughts, or not thinking at all.

So that’s what he does. He pulls himself away from the force field separating them from freedom, walks over to Sylvie, and, without saying a word, drops down to the ground next to her. He kicks out his legs in front of him, laying them flat against the floor, and leans back against the wall with a soft sigh. He glances down at Sylvie the same time she looks up to him, and there’s something she’s asking of him reflecting in her eyes that she won't verbalize. He gives her a small smile and, taking a guess, wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his side.

He must have guessed somewhat correctly, given that she doesn’t push him away. It only takes a few minutes before she rests her head against him, closing her eyes against the harsh bright lights that illuminated their cell. She doesn’t see the way the Einherjar — still glaring at Loki — looked almost pained at this. Loki had stopped glaring at him now. Not just because there was something about Sylvie’s presence so close that seemed to sap away his anger. It was also because… a part of him was curious.

This guard must have known Sylvie — the one that wasn’t taken by the TVA, anyway. But… how exactly did they know each other? They must have been somewhat close, given that he had kissed her. Except… except the way he looked when he had seen Sylvie... He looked shocked. Startled. As were Thor and Odin the second they realized who she was. But… why? What had this Sylvie -- Loki -- done to warrant such a reaction?

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you in.” Loki snaps himself out of his thoughts at the sound of the guard speaking. “King’s orders--”

“Mar, it’s me.” Thor stood opposite the guard -- Mar now, Loki supposed -- the sound of her voice forcing Sylvie’s eyes open. “Do you really think my father's orders extend to his daughter?”

“Orders were that no-one saw the prisoners but him,” says Mar, stood center in the entrance to the dungeon, blocking Thor’s way in.

“By that logic, no one would include you, so you’re disobeying my father's orders simply by being here.”

“Thor—”

“"It’s my sister.” It could have been either her words or the pleading in her voice that gave Mar pause.

“You know it’s not,” Mar whispered. Harsh. Broken. “Thor, you know it’s not.”

“Probably not,” Thor reluctantly agrees. “But someone who looks scarily looks just like her is in there, and you can’t expect me not to want to talk to her.”

“I have my orders--”

“They certainly didn’t stop you before.”

Mar’s lips thin, close to a grimace at Thor’s reminder. Thor sighs. “Mar, we both know I’m going to talk to them no matter what. Question is whether it’s going to be with you standing guard the whole time, or you unconscious. Your pick.”

Loki bit back a grin at the sudden shift to hostility. He quite liked Sylvie’s version of Thor. There’s a few terse seconds of silence between Thor and Mar before the latter gives in, stepping to the side to let Thor pass. To Loki’s surprise — given the threat she had just dished out — Thor did not pass until she had pulled Mar into a hug. It must have been somewhat normal for them, as Mar does not look particularly perturbed by the display of affection. If anything… he looked rather thankful for it.

“I know,” Thor murmurs as they separate, giving his armor-clad shoulder a squeeze. “I didn’t expect it to hurt as much to see her. But it did, didn’t it?”

Mar does not answer. He doesn’t need to.

It feels like an age before Thor fully appears in their line of vision. She stands a good few feet away from the cell, regarding the two of them like a vicious creature that could strike at any moment. Sylvie slowly stands up, her fingers interlocking with Loki’s, a silent request for her to join him. A reminder that she needs him. Loki lets the pull of her hand guide him up, joining her as they stand side by side.

“Was it you?” Thor is the first to break the silence. “Were you the ones who attacked our guards? Stole their armor?”

“We intended to return it--” Sylvie elbows Loki in the ribs. Thor raises an eyebrow at the display.

“We needed to see who was on the throne,” Sylvie tries to explain. “It was the only way we could think of doing that without drawing any attention.”

“What for?” Thor asks. “What importance is it to you who rules Asgard?”

“I…” Sylvie stutters to a stop. How exactly does she explain this without sounding crazy? “I needed to know it wasn’t me.”

Not like that, judging by the deep frown burrowed into Thor’s forehead.

“And… who exactly are you?” Thor asks.

Sylvie just barely managed to force back a frustrated groan. “I’ve told you already. I’m…” Sylvie pauses for a moment, her alias having been at the tip of her tongue. But that wasn’t the name to use right now. Now, she needed the name that her father had bestowed upon her. “I’m Loki.”

It was the first time Loki had heard Sylvie refer to herself with their shared name. It was… kind of strange, actually. Even back when he and Mobius were hunting her down, he didn’t really think of her as ‘Loki.’ She was… a variant of him. The ‘inferior’ or ‘superior’ version of him, depending on who you asked (and, admittedly, a change in opinion over an embarrassingly short amount of time.)

Thor exhales sharply at the name, crossing her arms as she shakes her head, looking down to the ground. Again, Loki finds himself wondering what the hell had Sylvie done in this timeline? So far, everyone’s reaction to Sylvie had been… weird. It wasn’t quite anger, or disappointment, so he can only assume that Sylvie had not tried to claim Midgard… or Asgard… or the entirety of the Nine-Realms, really, as he had set out to do.

“You don’t believe me.” Loki isn’t sure if Sylvie was supposed to phrase that as a question, or as a matter of fact.

“No. I don’t,” Thor answers. Her gaze shifts from Sylvie to Loki, that calculating look returning as she scans him up and down. “And who do you claim to be?”

Right… how does he go about this? Straight to the point, perhaps? He had never been good at being brutally honest, but there didn’t seem to be some meticulously crafted lie he could use to sweet-talk them out of here.

But, it turns out he doesn’t have to do either. Sylvie beats him to it. “We’re Loki.” Sylvie was already so close to him that she barely has to move her hand, her fingers brushing across the back of his hand. Thor’s eyes tracked their hands as they twitched towards one another, looking no less confused than she did earlier.

“Him and I? We’re…” Sylvie purses her lips in thought, looking up to Loki for help in explaining this.

“We’re the same being that took different paths,” Loki explains — or, tries to, anyway. “In my case? I took an infinity stone when I wasn’t supposed to. The Tesseract, to be specific.”

Thor was only getting more confused at this point. “You… took the Tesseract… when you weren’t supposed to?"

“Yes. The timeline I’m from was one where, instead of being taken back here—” Loki gestured at the yellow walls surrounding them. “—I stole the Tesseract and escaped custody. Only… turns out they didn’t want me doing that.”

Thor was looking at them like they were insane, but she was at least still listening. Even if she also looked moments away from summoning Mjolnir again. “Who’s they?”

“The TVA,” Sylvie answers. “They’re the ones who took me away. It was… it was so long ago now, I don’t…” Sylvie seemed to deflate in on herself a little. “You probably wouldn’t even remember.”

Something about Sylvie’s downtrodden look seems to get through to Thor. She still looks annoyed, but more so she’s annoyed that Sylvie had managed to find a way to make her feel bad. Thor didn’t want to admit it — not out loud — but it did remind her a startling amount of… of Loki. “Remember what?”

“The little wooden ship,” Sylvie says. “It was beautiful. Handcrafted, I think, by—”

“By father,” Thor confirms, and a part of Sylvie wants to weep at just that. It was something that had been lost to her for years now. She used to know that was the case, but after spending most of your life just trying to survive… things like who made you your toys when you were a child tend to be pushed from your memories.

“We used to play with it all the time.” Sylvie shuffles closer to the force field, its power humming away just inches from her face. Even Mar seemed to have forgone his guard duties, his attention focused solely on Thor and Sylvie. “You were jealous that father had made something just for me—”

“Until you told me we could share it,” Thor whispers. Something shines in her eyes now. Something akin to hope. Something that said, no matter how ridiculous this all sounded, that a part of her wanted to believe the person trapped in the dungeon stood opposite her was her sister.

“Father had taken you for a training session that day.” A single tear escapes the corner of Sylvie’s eye, rolling down her cheek. Loki desperately wanted to reach out and wipe it away. “I begged him to take me with you, but… he wouldn’t. You told me to go on playing without you, that you’d come find me after and we’d keep playing Valkyries.”

Loki didn’t know what to do. He knew what he wanted to do was to stop Sylvie from feeling so much pain. He wanted for the tremble in her voice to be gone, for the tears collecting in her eyes to vanish. But he didn’t know how to do that right now. Like Mar, he could only stand and listen, transfixed.

“I never saw you again after that…” Sylvie just barely managed to get out. “The TVA came, and they took me. And then… time took my memories of you, too. I could barely remember your face. Or father’s voice. Or mother's soothing touch. All I could remember, clear as day, was…”

Sylvie holds out a hand in front of her, eyes clenched shut in concentration. He didn’t know how, but Loki knew exactly what she was trying to do. Her other hand seems to move towards him as he moves towards her, like she could sense he was trying to help her. Sylvie clamps a hand around his, her grip tight, the sensation of their magic interlocking and working together bringing them both a sense of calm.

The manifestation of the little carved wooden boat in Sylvie’s hand comes easy after that. Surprisingly, it’s Mar who reacts the most vividly to its creation, whose sharp, pained intake of breath nearly distracts them from Thor’s reaction. Whilst her’s wasn’t as sudden and visible… audible… as Mar’s, it was still there. Hard to see, unless you knew what you were looking for: the clenching of her jaw, the subtle flare of her nose, her entire body tensing up.

“I want to believe you…” Thor finally speaks. “But you… you can’t be Loki. We did play Valkyries, I remember. I came back and you were there, waiting and we... I have an entire lifetime of memories with her."

"Yes, you do." Sylvie agreed. "Because there are an infinite amount of me, now. Just as there's an infinite amount of you, an infinite amount of father, mother, everyone. This timeline is the one I came from, except... this time, the TVA didn't interfere. The Loki you know is me, if I was never taken."

"I know it all sounds crazy..." Loki says gently. "Believe me, I do. Even when I was stood in that place, with all the evidence around me, I still thought it to be a charade. But..."

"But I can show you," Sylvie insisted.

"Show me?"

"My memories," said Sylvie "Then you can see. My entire life, everything me and him–" Sylvie reaches a hand behind her, placing a hand on Loki's arm. "–Did to get to here? All it takes is a single touch, a moment of contact between us, and you can see we're telling the truth."

Thor shook her head with a dry laugh, the few steps she took away from them feeling like physical blows. "I'm not going to let you out of there. I may not always agree with father's orders, but I'm not foolish enough to take that kind of risk. You may look like my sister, but... It's simply not possible. You can't be her."

“Why can’t she?” Loki asks when Sylvie can’t seem to. Then, comes the question he’s been wanting to ask since they got here. The question he thought they’d get an answer to sooner. “What happened to Sylvie -- to Loki -- in this timeline?”

But Thor doesn’t answer his question at first. Instead, she answers with another question. “Sylvie?”

“It’s… what I prefer to go by now,” Sylvie says. “I was being hunted down… couldn’t use my real name without attracting unwanted attention.”

“Please, Thor,” Sylvie continues, and Loki isn’t used to the begging tone he hears from her. “Even if you can’t believe I am who I am, just… at least tell me what happened to me here. What I did that was apparently so bad, you don’t want to accept that I’m your sister—”

“Bad?” The pained-sounding word comes not from Thor, but from Mar. “You think that—?”

“Mar.” Thor cuts him off firmly. She glances back at Mar from over her shoulder, the unspoken command to stop talking hanging in the air. Mar looked like a man on the brink of disobeying every order he was and ever will be given, so ready to defend Sylvie, and it’s then Loki realizes how much of an idiot he was.

That was why Mar kept looking at Sylvie so strangely. That was why he was glowering at Loki whenever he was close to Sylvie. That was why, upon seeing her in the throne room, his first reaction had been to kiss her.

Whoever this Sylvie turns out to be in this timeline… Mar was in love with her.

“Loki, she…” Thor begins, voice strong as ever, but it quickly breaks away. She closes her eyes, a muscle under her eyes twitching as she fights to keep her tears away. “She's dead."

Next Chapter - - - >

#sylki #sylki fanfiction #pro sylki #sylki fanfic #loki/sylvie #lovedagger #enchantricks #loki x sylvie

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wizardofrozz · 3 years

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The Perfect Pair

Warnings: swearing, violence, death of background characters, angst

Pairing: Loki x OFC

A/N: I hope everyone is enjoying this so far! ❤

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Chapter 9: Sakaar Welcomes You

My eyes snapped open at the sudden impact of my body slamming into a solid surface, knocking the wind out of me; I gasped, violently clawing at my chest, trying to relieve the pressure. Being able to breathe again chased off some of the stress, momentarily at least; I pushed myself into a sitting position, squinting at the sun, surveying my surroundings. Pulling air into my lungs at a steady pace soothed the burning feeling in my chest, but the ache I was all too familiar with roared to life again. Free falling through space for what felt like days left my legs about as useful as wet noodles; it took me a few minutes to adjust to gravity again, bracing myself against piles of garbage. Where the hell am I? I shuffled between mounds of trash, hoping to run into someone; after 15 minutes or so, my legs had adjusted, making trudging through the scrap yard easier. I caught a flash of movement off to my left, but I turned to get a better look, only to come up empty; another flicker of movement caused me to whip my head in the other direction. I froze when I heard something crunch behind me; I spun around, coming face to face with a group of eight creatures that I didn’t recognize. “Back off,” I snarled, lunging forward. The creatures jumped, stepping back slightly but proceeded to stare at me; a few narrowed their eyes, trying to understand what they were seeing. “Food!” one of the creatures yelled. The rest of the group responded with an array of screams and shouts as they charged me; I simply lifted my hand, palm out, sending tendrils of magic to wrap around each of their throats, lifting all eight creatures off the ground. A wicked smile crept across my face as I watched the creatures struggling against the magic cutting off their airflow; I slowly turned my hand, the pressure against their throats increasing. I gently started to close my hand, watching their eyes bug out until I noticed a ship clumsily lowering towards the ground behind where the creatures came from. The ship roughly dropped, a walkway extending as a woman stumbling out of the ship; I rolled my eyes as she drunkenly made her way to solid ground. “Hm, impressive,” she laughed when she noticed the creatures hanging in the air a few feet from her. I raised an eyebrow, simultaneously flicking my wrist, snapping all eight necks, smiling at the distinct thuds as bodies hit the ground. “Who are you?” I pushed my hood off, watching the woman nudge one of the bodies with her foot, nodding as she moved around the bodies. “Scrapper 142,” she shouted over her shoulder. “You’re powerful,” she raised an eyebrow, meeting my eyes. “Really, I had no idea,” I snorted, glaring at her. “Hm, Grand Master might like you,” she mumbled, surging to her feet, tossing a small disk at me. I lifted a hand again, freezing the object a few inches from my hand; the disk turned to dust with a simple thought. “Yeah, I don’t think so,” I snickered. “Actually, I kind of like you too,” she laughed, taking a step closer. I ran my eyes over her now that she was facing me; I caught the tail of a very familiar tattoo on her right wrist. “Oh, for shit's sake, you’re a Valkyrie,” I sighed, scrubbing my face. “Was,” she corrected. “Whatever,” I waved her off. I watched as she studied my armor, slowly getting closer; I tensed, magic crackling across my fingers. ��Relax, killer; I thought I recognized your armor.” “I’d hope so; it’s Asgardian,” I sighed again. “What’s your name?” she barked, narrowing her eyes at me. “Violet,” I disclosed, narrowing my eyes at her. Something about her seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place it; I continued to stare at her, willing my brain to come up with something. “No fucking way!” she shouted, a smile spreading across her face for the first time. The goofy grin on her face finally made it all click. “Brunnhilde?” I gasped, my eyes widening. “Holy shit, I thought you were dead!” she laughed, pulling me into a rough hug. I tensed for a moment but quickly relaxed into the hug, wrapping my arms around her. “How long has it been since I’ve seen you?” “I have no idea,” I laughed sharply, pulling back to look at her. “The last time I saw you was before Odin sent you off on some secret mission.” She visibly cringed at the memory; pain was written all over her face before it was replaced by disgust. “Odin sent us to our death. Hela broke free, and he sent us to push her back. She massacred the Valkyrie. I managed to escape, barely,” she mumbled, wringing her hands. “Shit, Bea, I had no idea,” I whispered, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Well, good news, Hela’s back,” I grunted. “No shit? Glad I’m here then,” she laughed dryly. “Where is here, by the way?” “Welcome to Sakaar.” Bea spread her arms wide, a smirk pulling at her lips. “Looks like a shithole.” Bea laughed, clapping a hand on my shoulder, steering me towards her ship. “You got that right, but unless you’re in a rush to get somewhere, stay a while. Could always use more scrappers,” Bea smiled, slinging her arm over my shoulders. “I should try to get my ass back to Asgard,” I grumbled, irritated that part of me even cared about Asgard. “Let me rephrase that; Grandmaster isn’t going to let you leave easily. You’re stuck without a good ship, so stay a while,” Bea sighed, gesturing to the seat next to the pilot chair. “Son of a bitch,” I rubbed between my eyes, trying to chase off the migration building. “Great, my...partner is going to be pissed when I eventually show up again.” “Sounds like an asshole,” Bea snorted, raising an eyebrow. “That’s an understatement, but I love him for some stupid ass reason,” I sighed, trying to ignore the persistent ache that gripped my soul. “Well, kick back and relax for a while,” Bea smirked, steering the ship off the ground. I took a deep breath, leaning back into the seat; I have to figure out how to get a ship of my own if I plan to get back to Loki. Unfortunately, it looks like being a scrapper is my best bet. /// 3 weeks later I threw back the rest of my drink, slamming the bottle onto the counter, cheers erupting around me; the harsh burn of the alcohol dulled the suffocating agony enough to function. “Damnit,” a dirty, ragged creature mumbled from next to me. “Pay up motherfucker,” I laughed, holding my arm out. I watched the credits deposit into my account, a devilish grin spreading across my face; I winked at the angry creature, jumping off my stool. “Alright, enough hustling asshole,” Bea laughed, grabbing my arm to pull me away from the bar. “You’re no fun,” I bump shoulders with her when I stumbled, earning a loud laugh from her. “Oh, did you hear, Grandmaster has a new apple of his eye,” she chuckled, taking a swig from the bottle dangling from her fingers. “Oh boy,” I rolled my eyes. “Who’s he pining after now?” “No idea, a few of the servants were gossiping about it. Apparently, Grandmaster has the hots for this guy, but he’s not interested in screwing the old guy,” she burps as she finished her sentence. “Poor guy has no idea what’s in store for him,” I giggled, drunkenly stumbling a little. “Don’t blame Grandmaster, though; I’ve heard he’s pretty good-looking. Hair almost as black as yours,” Bea winked, licking her lips. “Stop imagining about me naked,” I laughed, burping in between giggles. “I’m not sorry,” she giggled, stumbling into me. “Scrapper 142, Scrapper 210,” someone called from the end of the hall. “What?” I yelled, hiccupping again. “Grandmaster is looking for the two of you,” a small servant girl called, rolling her eyes at us. “Where is he?” I asked, stopping a few feet from her. “Follow me,” she sighed, turning away from us. “I’m too drunk for this,” Bea giggled, bumping into me again. “Ah, there’s my favorite scrappers,” Grandmaster bellowed, a wide smile on his face. “Grandmaster,” Bea and I hummed together, trying to collect ourselves. “I wanted to pay you for your last haul. We have a new wonderful group of unpaid workers,” he smiled, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Thank you, Grandmaster,” I stated, bowing my head slightly; Bea followed my lead. “OH! Have you met my new friend?” -he leaned in to whisper to us- “He showed up a few days ago,” he wiggled his eyebrows, making my stomach wretch. “Here he comes, say hello,” he pushed, gesturing towards the door to my right. “Of course,” Bea answered. I took a deep breath turning to face the poor sap Grandmaster was pinning for now; my brows pulled together when I had the unshakeable urge to move towards the door. I didn’t move, but my stomach dropped to my feet, suddenly sober, my heartbeat like a jackhammer in my chest as he rounded the corner, his eyes focused on the floor. I almost fainted, frantically grabbing Bea’s arm to steady myself as tears pricked at my eyes. “What the hell’s wrong with you!” she whispered harshly. “Loki,” I borderline sobbed. Loki’s stopped dead in his tracks, his head snapping up, his gaze landing on me a few seconds later. Loki stumbled slightly, like the sight of me almost knocked him to his knees as his eyes watered. “Vi? You’re alive,” he choked. The relief that flooding over me made me gasp for air, my head spinning momentarily. The second a relieved smile spread across Loki’s face, I ran for him, sending him stumbling back a few steps when I slammed into him, instinctively, wrapping my legs around his waist; Loki gripped my thigh with one hand, wrapping his other arm around my ribs to hold me close. “Holy shit,” I choked, squeezing him tighter. “I was sure you were dead,” Loki whispered into my skin, his shoulders shaking slightly. “Please” -I pulled back so I could see his face- “only you’re allowed to kill me for good. A handful of scrappers tried, but nothing I couldn’t handle.” I stared into his sparkling shamrock green eyes, just taking a minute to comprehend that he’s alive. Loki’s thumb traced circles along my thigh, bringing me back to reality from the sea of emotions coursing through me. “Haven’t lost your edge, darling,” Loki chuckled, his face getting closer as he spoke. My stomach fluttered, having him so close, and decided I wasn’t waiting anymore; I surged forward, slamming my lips to his. Loki let out a surprised yelp that quickly morphed into a throaty moan as my tongue coaxed his lips apart. “Darling,” Loki hummed, reluctantly breaking the kiss. “Fuck,” I groaned, my head dropping onto his shoulder. “Believe me, I’m going to ravage you” -I shivered against him- “but we have to wait.” I sighed, bracing myself on his shoulders so I could unwrap my legs from around his waist; once my feet were safely on the floor again, Loki gripped the back of my neck, looking into my eyes. “I love you, little one,” he said with a sweet smile, his fingers massaging my neck. “I love you too, shithead,” I chuckled, resting my hand on his forearm. “Well, I can assume you two know each other,” Grandmaster pipped up. “Uh, yes. It appears my queen made it here before me,” Loki mumbled, continuing to rub the back of my neck. “Queen?” Grandmaster and Bea said together. “It’s a long, kind of awful story,” I laughed awkwardly. “But yes, I technically was Queen.” “That means you’re married….” Bea trailed off, her eyes flicking between Loki and me. “Yes, we kept it simple and a secret,” Loki sighed, squeezing my neck a little too tight. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, Bea” -I stepped away from Loki- “but I honestly thought he was dead. I wasn’t ready to bring it up.” I grabbed one of her hands, trying to ignore the death glare she gave me; I locked eyes with her, her expression softening slightly. “Come on, I never shared my feelings,” I giggled, squeezing her hand. “No kidding,” she snorted, rolling her eyes. “I guess I can’t be too pissed. I knew you weren’t getting blackout drunk just for fun.” “Well, this is interesting, to say the least,” Grandmaster huffed, turning to leave the room. Once Loki, Bea, and I were alone, Loki let out the breath he was holding, bracing his hands on his knees. “Thank god,” Loki panted; my heart swelled when the light caught the metal chain that shifted around his neck when he bent forward. “Don’t worry; you don’t have to sleep with him,” I jabbed. Loki’s head shot up, his eyes wide with fear as he stood straight again. “Oh god, I hope you’re joking,” he croaked. “Nope, that was his plan,” Bea tried to say around laughter. “When it comes down to it, I don’t particularly care about gender, but he makes me extremely uncomfortable. I could feel him watching me.” Loki shivered at the thought; Bea and I lost it, laughing until our stomachs hurt, earning a dirty look from Loki. “Come on. I’m starving,” Bea grunted when we finally calmed down. I reached for Loki’s hand, and he made sure to give me another dirty look before threading his fingers with mine.

///

Bea and I left Loki with Grandmaster when he requested we make a few extra rounds when unknown life was sensed in the scrap yard. “So, are you going to tell me about your wedding?” Bea probed, her elbow catching my ribs. “As Loki said, it was nothing big or elegant. Mainly, it was so I could take on the responsibility of Queen behind the scenes,” I shrugged. “Bullshit. You two didn’t get married for strictly business reasons. I mean, come on, I was just in the room when you two saw each other again. So spill it,” Bea insisted. “...okay, no, it wasn’t strictly business. Loki and I have been doing this intricate dance for years now. Rage-fueled fights, empty threats, mind-blowing hate fucking, but I’ve never felt a deeper, more complex connection with another being in my 1000-something years of life. It’s like something deeper connects us,” I rambled, my eyes trained on the floor. “Gods, you make me feel old,” Bea grumbled. “Anyway. So what, you two married in secret, and the Asgardians didn’t make a fuss?” “Well, that’s the thing. Loki was impersonating Odin, so the Asgardians didn’t know Loki was actually ruling, meaning I wasn’t publicly named Queen.” “I was wondering how Loki managed to get the thrown before Thor,” Bea mumbled, shaking her head. “Yeah, it wasn’t our best moment, but Asgard is thriving. The Nine Realms are at peace. I think we did a pretty good job,” I boasted. “I think I’d take Loki over Thor anyway. Loki never struck me as part of the typical royal family with all the lies and secrets. So I’m not surprised he managed the throne well,” Bee said with a shrug. “You don’t even know the half of it,” I mumbled. Loki’s Jotunn heritage was still a reasonably well-kept secret, and I planned to keep it that way, along with my halfling bloodline. I glanced at Bea, feeling guilty for keeping it from her; for a second, I thought of telling her, but the fear of judgment and hostility kept my lips sealed.

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Series Masterlist | Chapter 10

Taglist:

@criminalyetminimal @marvelfansworld

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krabmeat · 3 years

Text

𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜: Wilbur Soot

𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜: he/him

𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: physical pain descriptions, paranoia, overdose, hospitalization, alarms, descriptions of hallucinations

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎:

this is the 2nd part to my 7 part series of making all of the songs from YCGMA into short stories! this one is for saline solution, hope ya like it! :]

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One, two, three and four

The seconds tick by on the clock in my workroom. The sound sensitive LED border of the clock lights up whenever I cough. I find it hard to breathe, the wheezes between breaths are loud, so I take a puff of my inhaler sitting on my desk next to my pc. It’s been difficult to walk lately, I’ve made a steady recovery but my legs sometimes feel like the pores are being replaced with lead- heavy and cold. Despite this though, I make my way over to my bedroom. My roommate isn’t home yet, despite how late it is. The walls of the hallway echo my footsteps, the pain I’m in not reflecting with the sounds. ‘I need to take my meds…’ My room, surprisingly not as messy as I thought. Clothes here and there, an undone bed, but overall everything is where it should be. My legs shuffle into the bathroom connected to my room, locating my paracetamol and prozac. Click, click!

I think this time I'm dying

I open the paracetamol with ease, it hypnotizes me. Quickly opening the prozac, my breath becomes jagged- confused. Water flows after the pills, hindering the struggle it would have been, but I feel the same. Panicked and afraid. What's wrong with me? Do I need more? Is there something else? I'm scared, pissed off and lonely- ‘I'm overthinking this.’ But am I? Nonetheless, nothings happening. My legs still feel like hell, and the cold invisible hand is pinching the skin behind my neck, but when I claw at it nothings there. My eyes distantly shift to the pill bottles on the counter. I can feel myself trying to look elsewhere, but my general focus is on the pills. I need more.

I'm not melodramatic

Just 1 more of each should do. Just to be safe. I'm just being safe!

I'm just pragmatic beyond any reasoning

Better safe than sorry, right? I take another drink of water and wait for the relief to set in, but it never does. My legs are aching even more and the fact that there's no effects is just making me panic more. What's wrong with me? Why isn't it setting in fast enough-?!

For thinking I've got f*cking rabies or something.

More. I need more. Maybe that's the problem, I'm just not taking a high enough dosage! I look down at each of the bottles, reading the label for the prescription. “Take 2 per day when symptoms arise. Contact your psychiatrist if a higher dosage is needed” ‘I know what I'm doing.’ There's something wrong with me, I can't bother contacting anyone. I need relief now. Out of impulse, I down both of the bottles and drink more water to allow the pills to travel with ease. Then, I just wait.

I think this time I'm dying

Pain shoots up from my stomach and sprouts to my head like a sapling. The room morphs and shifts and scrunches up like clay. Am I in a dream? I look down at my hands to pinch myself, shaking, blurry and full of vibrant colors.

I think this time I'm dying.

F*ck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I think I've lost my mind.

The world morphs and moves without my eyes permission. My stomach hurts more than my legs do. The reflection in the mirror, a pale, sad and confused blur. The pain isn't going away, it's growing worse and worse. Pins and needles pricking and scraping along the inside of my abdomen, there's millions of them. Every deep breath I take is a dulled stab into my chest. Was the original concern as big as I've made it now?

Blurring the fact and the fictions

Everything is so unreal. Why did I do this again? Where am I? My memory becomes a flickering bulb, dying out from being strained of its power. My concept of time and object permanence is foggy, but that's how I know something is wrong. But what? Am I blowing things out of proportion or is this bigger than a prescription?

While simultaneously fixing myself up with a girl named panadol.

I looked down at the empty paracetamol bottle, I did the right thing- right? My intentions feel like they've been beaten and whipped with a fork, scrambled and confused with each other. But I did what I did, it still hurts though. A pang of regret stabs at my throat for a second, but the desire for relief overrides it.

Bite the tablet, elixir

The elixir! My hands swiftly open the cabinet again, desperate for elixir. I quickly find, it- half a bottle of elixir should do. As quickly as I found the bottle, I downed half of it and quickly drank more freezing cold water from the sink.

Disintegrate, mouths a mixer

That's 3 different types of pills. 3 different remedies! I'll be alright now, right? I should be, but I can't stand steadily anymore. My arms are violently shaking and my legs are about to drop. The sight is horrifying, everything is flickering from absolute darkness to furniture and walls melting like an ice cube. Am I blinking? I can't tell.

I think I've lost my mind

I can't handle this. Am I in mild pain or are things dire? I want the pain I had before, less overwhelming. I have no control anymore. The front door opening and closing shut was barely audible for my ears. “Wil? Sorry I came home so late, I had a client come further into the day.” My legs give in, and a loud THUMP rumbles through the house as I fall onto the tiled floor of the bathroom. I feel the satisfaction of my eyes rolling into my head as my eyelids stay confused on whether or not to close or to stick open to stay alert. “Wil?! Wilbur are you alright?!” Her footsteps rush to my room and into the bathroom to see my frail and hurt body on the ground with the pill bottles strewn on the counter.

I think I've lost my mind.

“WILBUR!!” She rushes to my side and drops to her knees. Her shout was so loud, it made me snap back into the present. After checking my pulse and checking if I'm still breathing, she frantically digs through her coat pocket and dials 999.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If I could just break one more night

I can hear my roommate crying distantly after hanging up and putting away her phone. I don't understand...why do I need an ambulance? I was helping myself, wasn't I?

Maybe I could wake up and feel alright.

I could have gotten past on my own if she hadn't found me. I would have been just fine. I'm tired, just in general.

I optimistically set my alarm clock time

I had something to do today? I forgot. I can hear my alarm clock from my bedside table blaring at me, screaming at me to get up. There was a subtle jolt of excitement that shot up my neck, or was it anxiety? Fear? Adrenaline? Denial?

Serves only to mock me with flashing lights.

The sound seems to go on for longer, despite my roommate rushing to turn it off. Its turned off, but I can still hear the sound of it echoing through the room, bouncing into my ears. My hands raise to cover my ears, but the sound just gets louder and louder. I haven't gotten up yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I think I've made my choice

Everything is jumping around slightly, the paramedics in the ambulance looming over me, reaching for tubes and clear pouches. I feel something warm on my right hand, my roommate is sitting there with my hand in hers while trying to keep herself together. “Don’t worry Wil, they're gonna fix you up and you'll be just fine...!” She says it like she’s trying to reassure herself more than me- she's more worried about me then I am for myself. One of the paramedics sitting next to her speak up with a clipboard in hand. “You said he overdosed?” “Yes, I came home from work and there was a loud thud from his bathroom. I ran over and he was barely conscious on the floor with pill bottles all around…”

I’m a deceased playing victim

I...I overdosed? How did I not notice? No no, there was something wrong with me, that's why I took so many! But...was I wrong? I was just scared! I didn’t know that this would happen, its not my fault!

Slip the face, slip the victory.

I can't run away from myself, I’m my own shadow. I was scared. I am scared. This is all my fault. I took the pills, no one forced me to. It was me who did this. But, I’m not too angry with myself. Despite my impulsive actions, I don't hate the situation I've thrown myself into.

I think I’ve made my choice

If I don't make it out of this, I won't be disappointed. If I do, then that's alright too. I dug myself into this, so don't I deserve to suffer the consequences?

Sit secluded in hatred

I’m such a bother to her, this is the second time she's had to deal with me like this. The hospital probably hates me, but I won't bother to apologize. I meant what I did both this and the last time I was sent there, they shouldn't be helping me. But I’m not suicidal, I insist.

Void the plans friends are making.

I shouldn't have set my alarm. I would have stayed asleep, made things less stressful. Why did I even set my alarm? Nothing special was happening today, I don't have plans with anyone and the only thing I was supposed to do today is work, and that's later in the day. Most of my friends don't even like me that much, they don't invite me to places or acknowledge me so can I even consider them friends? The only person who even tries to pay attention to me is…is…

I think I've found my voice

“I...I’m..-” My roommate quickly looks down at me when she hears me speak. Her eyes show it all, shocked and relieved. Her skin is still puffy and red around her eyes, but she doesn't bother to hide it. “Thank the lord your alright...what were you thinking?!” She speaks in a hushed tone, intending to not startle or overwhelm me more than I already am. She doesn't deserve this, my paranoia and issues aren't hers. “I’m...I’m sorry..” I hear my voice for the first time in a while, it's gravely and dry. She looks down at me and her features seem to have softened. “We're almost at the hospital, you're gonna be alright.”

I'm a leech sucking blood bags

I've been living off of her this entire time. My hardships were always nonexistent, weren't they? All of my tolls were never mine to begin with, her generosity is what she replaced it with. And this is what I'm giving her, more and more to deal with. But she doesn't have to, right? It's her choice, it's her fault. I'm not guilty.

Taste defeat, it's a sandbag

As soon as the vehicle stopped, I was urgently rolled out the back and rushed into a hospital room. I can hear the doctors and nurses arguing back and forth rapidly, one after the other.

Saline solution

I hear from the wad of voices. Hm, so they're desperate as well it seems… My mind decides not to bother with their procedures, instead I just leave it all to them. It won't be on my hands if they fail after all, right?

Saline solutions to all your

A set of doctors rush into my hospital room while a nurse rolls in a cart filled with who knows what for me. IV tubes are hooked up to a hanging pouch and attached to my arms.

Saline solution to all your

My eyes are squinted from the obnoxiously bright lights scattered in the hospital, the white walls making me develop more of a headache. My head flops to the left, seeing my roommate outside the window in the hallway. She's pacing around frantically with her phone up to her ear. I then turn my head to the right to see a slightly foggy pouch of saline hanging above me, the IV tubes connecting the liquid to my internal damage.

Saline solution to all your…

One of the doctors helps me drink a small amount of the saline solution and then hands me a small trash can. My stomach is crying and screaming in pain and mercy. Tears prick the corners of my eyes from the guttural pain, but it'll be out of my system soon.

Problems.

#wilbur soot #ycgma #saline solution #angst #series #writing #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot fanfic #mcyt fic #mcyt fanfic #mcyt fanfiction #dsmp fic #dsmp fanfic #dsmp fanfiction

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dabis-azure-songstress · 4 years

Text

Dabi x SelfHarm!/Depressed Reader

Alright, Love Bugs...here’s the one I have been working extremely hard on. I’m a recovering self harmer and I just wanted to give other people like me and how I used to be some extra love. I hope this helps just one person and I will feel like posting this was worth it. Dabi is himself one this, but he’s actually trying to comfort the reader. When I was cutting, sometimes all I wanted was just someone to talk to and a friend. I’ve had people get mad at me for going to them and literally voicing how ashamed they were. This creation stems from that and I hope it helps. If you really need help, please reach out for it. @kericacathouse I hope you don’t mind me tagging you, I know you wanted to read it. And please let me know as a fellow person that has had trouble.

Pairing: Dabi x SelfHarm!/Depressed Reader

TRIGGERS: Self harm in the form of cutting is described explicitly and the feelings I have felt related to it are described. This may seriously trigger you and I don’t want anyone to have a relapse, please. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE! I’m trying to help, not make it worse!

WARNING: Self-Harm, Depression, somewhat soft Dabi

The cold metal of a razor blade shakes in your hand as you stare at it. An extreme concoction of buried feelings, long stifled, is bubbling up and you can’t bear to swallow them down anymore. Embarrassment, shame, anger, hatred, disgust, sadness, loneliness, wanting to be alone/wanting someone to just be with you, wanting to end it, and just wanting to live your best. Your inner voice ranges from bitter “failure”s, “stupid”s, “no one cares”, “they’ll be happy you’re gone, you’re nothing” to “just one more cut...then I’ll stop” and “it’ll feel so good”. You can feel the bile rising into your throat slightly. Your hand slowly moves and the cold metal is biting into the delicate skin of your thigh or wrist with precise force behind it. You suddenly jerk it quickly and finish the new addition (and rapidly a few more, it never seems to stop with just one), breath shakily leaving your lips and head slightly falling back. Shame, relief, pleasure, and the familiar stinging floods up along with the crimson liquid rising to the newborn slices. Questions also begin to infiltrate through the haziness of your mind. Why did I do that? Why do I hurt myself? Why does it feel so damn good every single time I possibly might just kill myself? It’s such a thrill and utterly relieving simultaneously. People could have their alcohol, crack, heroine. This was your drug of choice. Your sweet, yet utterly terrifying addiction.

You’re still slightly rolling on endorphins when the door to the bathroom pushes open and familiar beautiful and glowing turquoise eyes fall on you. Your partner had needed to relieve himself and was about to tell you to “piss off” before he put two and two together. “What are you doing?” Heat floods up your spine and then freezes ice cold. You hadn’t thought of being caught, only thought of your medicine for dealing with the world. You thought he was mad at first, but the expression on his face was relaxed and he was just normal/usual Dabi, though his eyes seemed to hold a softer gleam.

He moves and plops down against the wall beside you, head tilted back against it with one knee pulled up and his arm resting on it while the other leg stretches out in front of him. Dabi grabs the razor from the floor and glances at you and the metal languidly. “You shouldn’t do this.” His tone still isn’t angry and he’s not freaking out an ounce. “I know...Aren’t you mad at me?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad? Why would I make your pain any worse? You probably feel upset and ashamed enough for the both of us.” You felt the tears well up in your eyes and shook under the weight of your heaving sobs. He actually understands? Dabi frowns and carefully drapes an arm around you. “Don’t cry, baby doll. I don’t like the water works.” He’s not being mean and his tone stays quite soft.

You try to reel yourself in and it’s quiet for a moment before he finally speaks up again. “I’m sorry your pain runs this deep. Someone like you should never feel like this is the only answer. I get it though. Once you get started it’s hard to stop and you cling to the relief it gives you.”

“Y-you...”

Dabi releases a long sigh before he’s using the arm not around you to point carefully to certain scars under his large ones that you can still see if you look closely enough. “I get it. I really do. But...please don’t do this to yourself anymore. A doll face like you should be smiling all the time. You deserve to be happy. And these feelings you feel now are valid too. I get you can’t be happy and smiling all the time. This place can be super fucked up, but...if you need someone to rely on and talk to, if you feel like you have no one, I am standing right beside you.”

You glance at him to see he’s already looking at you and staring directly into your eyes. “D-Dabi...”

“C’mon, don’t get all gushy on me now,” he teases. “I’m serious though, doll. If you feel like this again, come find me. Call me. Anything. You will never bother me. Fight those demons and live for me. It’d be a hell of a lot more dull without someone as bright as you around. So, fight it. If you slip up every once in a while, that’s ok too. It happens. You can tell me that too. I’m not going to tear into you for it. It’s absolutely okay to not be okay. You’ll get there. You can recover. Promise me.”

“I...I promise...” It felt as if some heavy weight had been completely pushed off your shoulders. “Good. Now let’s get those cleaned up and get some bandages on you. Then you’re really going to have to get out of here because I have really got to pee. You can go wait in my room or something.” You chuckled softly as he grabbed a few things from the medicine cabinet. He cleaned you up and got you all set before he finally ushered you out of the bathroom and pointed to his room.

There you went and waited. You never thought you’d ever have a best friend like you did in Dabi. He was extremely easy to talk to and always listened to what you had to say. He had even managed to give you a few tight hugs to let you cry it out to him. He always acknowledged how you felt, no matter how fucked up you thought you were for it. He made you feel completely normal and like nothing was wrong. You didn’t feel alone. And you actually fit in somewhere. You weren’t some freak just because of how you were feeling. And slowly with him, you started to get better and conquer yourself. Sometimes it really is okay to not be okay.

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #warningthisistriggering #depressedreader #itgetsbetter #itsokaytonotbeokay #dabi imagines

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searchingwardrobes · 4 years

Text

The Convenient Groom: 3/12

I know Tuesday is the day for updating this fic, and I did finish this chapter last night, but I was too tired to go through the long process of posting it. But I’m not THAT late, right?

Summary: Killian Jones just happens to be there when Emma Swan gets the phone call that changes everything: her fiance is leaving her at the altar. The thing is, it also could mean the end of her career. Convenient that Killian has nothing better to do that day. Convenient that he’s secretly in love with her. Not that Emma has to know that. Written for @spartanguard

Rating: M

Words: 5k in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @welllpthisishappening @kmomof4 @teamhook @xhookswenchx @bethacaciakay @ohmakemeahercules @kday426 @superchocovian @sherlockianwhovian @shireness-says @stahlop @scientificapricot @distant-rose @optomisticgirl @winterbaby89 @wellhellotragic @branlovestowrite @tiganasummertree @delirious-latenight-laughs @resident-of-storybrooke @vvbooklady1256 @hollyethecurious @nikkiemms @ultraluckycatnd @jennjenn615 @thislassishooked @snidgetsafan @let-it-raines @ekr032-blog-blog @carpedzem @profdanglaisstuff

Chapter Three: Emma and Killian wake up (separately) the morning after their wedding of convenience and face the fallout.

Killian was awakened the next morning by his ringing phone, and when he went to reach for it, he almost fell off the narrow sofa. He almost forgot where he was until the crick in his neck and the light pouring through the glass doors leading to the suite’s balcony reminded him. In his confused state, he neglected to check the contact on the phone screen before he answered.

“Hello?” He blinked and rubbed his hand over his face as he swung his legs to the floor.

“What the bloody hell did you do?”

Liam’s voice was like ice cold water being poured over his head. “Wh-what are you talking about?”

“You got married?”

“How . . . “ Killian stammered, “you mean you know?”

“It’s all over the news, little brother. I woke up this morning and my phone was blowing up with texts. No one even knew you were in a relationship! What the hell is going on?”

Killian’s hand drifted from his jaw to his ear and back again as he rose and began to pace. “Well, you see, with Emma being a public figure and all, we just wanted to keep our relationship secret. And with her line of work, we knew whoever she dated, much less married, would be under a lot of scrutiny. I mean, our relationship would have been picked apart, so -”

“So you lied to me?”

Killian almost dropped the phone. The lies were only just beginning. “Um, more like, I withheld information.”

“Vital information!” Liam’s volume was climbing, and Killian pulled the phone farther away from his ear. “Elsa is pissed, and Anna literally cried because she missed the wedding. How could you do this to us - again? I thought I’d be your best man this time.”

Killian groaned as he heard the hurt clearly in his brother’s voice. “I’m sorry, truly I am. Emma and I are planning on doing a second, smaller ceremony for my friends and family.”

“So this was a publicity stunt. To promote her and her career.”

Great. Liam was pissed at Emma and they hadn’t even met. “A career which I support wholeheartedly. I didn’t even really care how we got married just so long as we did. I love her.”

It was the first truthful thing Killian had said since he answered the phone.

*****************************************************

Killian had the television on while he simultaneously scrolled through social media on his phone. Liam hadn’t been exaggerating: the media was buzzing about Emma Swan - the one single women around the globe turned to for relationship advice - getting married. People magazine apparently had the exclusive rights to the photographs, which would be published in their next issue, but Emma’s press agent had officially released one photograph and it was literally everywhere. It was of their first dance, when Killian had gotten Emma to laugh. He hoped she was at least smiling in the rest that would appear in People. His heart would break if her shock, pain, and betrayal were on display for the world to see. He’d deal with the media, his brother, his sisters in law and their emotions - all of it - to keep that from happening.

“Seriously? Already?”

He turned at the sound of Emma’s voice. She was standing there wrapped up in the resort bathrobe, a fluffy towel circling her head. He hadn’t even heard her stir in the other room. He fumbled for the remote and muted it.

“Um, aye, your wedding is big news apparently - I mean, our wedding.” He gave her a nervous smile and scratched behind his ear.

Emma moaned, collapsed onto the chair across from him, and covered her face with both hands. “I invited the media,” she mumbled before pulling her hands away with a sigh, “so I don’t know why I’m irritated. I guess I just didn’t expect all this attention so soon.”

Killian quirked a brow and waved his phone at her. “Well Swan, according to Instagram you’re #relationshipgoals to all of your followers.”

Emma grimaced, and he knew it was a bad joke. “Yeah, what goals? To get jilted at the altar and marry your carpenter instead?”

Killian shrugged. “It was a damn good arbor I made though, right?”

Emma managed to laugh. “It really was, Jones.”

A silence fell between them. Killian turned off the television and set his phone aside. He knew she didn’t need any of it right now. Emma untwisted the towel from her head and ran her fingers through her wet hair. The picture she made: her hair tumbling wild, her long legs peeking where the robe had fallen open, the top gaping and giving him a peek of her cleavage was all too much. He wished for a robe himself as his boxer briefs tightened. He snatched the blanket from the couch and held it around his waist as casually as he could as he stood and made his way to the bedroom.

“I think I’ll just, um . . . use the shower now myself,” he told her.

“Sure,” she replied, and when she smiled at him, he could swear he saw a twinkle in her eyes.

Emma had used up a lot of the hot water, but the cold shower was what he needed anyway. He lingered just long enough to wash away the sweat from the last twenty four hours and calm himself down. When he exited, he was relieved to see that his bags were lined up against Emma’s in the bedroom. The bellhop must have put them there the night before. He pulled out a pair of jeans and a simple grey tee from his bag. He had just slipped the shirt over his head when he heard a knock at the door and a voice call out “room service!”

Emma beat him to the door, and when Killian stepped out of the bedroom, she was ushering in a man pushing a tray that held their breakfast. Emma was still wearing the robe, and Killian didn’t miss the appreciative look the man gave her as he told her to enjoy her breakfast. Killian cleared his throat pointedly.

“Yes, we certainly will.”

The man had the decency to blush. “Um, yes, Mr. Jones. Enjoy your breakfast.”

Emma laughed after the man had shut the door behind him.

“What?”

“Jealous, Mr. Jones?”

Killian huffed. “Well, did you notice the way he was looking at you?”

Emma shrugged. “Well, to be fair, I’m wearing nothing but a bathrobe.”

“But you’re married!”

Emma’s eyes widened. “But we’re not actually a couple.”

“He doesn’t know that,” Killian grumbled.

Emma laughed again as she lifted the cover on one of the plates of food. Her laughter cut off sharply, however, and her hand froze in midair. “Are you kidding me?”

Killian rushed to her side, wondering what could be wrong with their breakfast, but then he saw it: the local newspaper tucked between the trays. The headline practically screamed: Emma Swan and New Husband Honeymoon on the Cape. Below it was the same official wedding photograph everyone else was posting along with a paparazzi shot of the two of them arriving last night in the limo. Emma banged the cover back onto the plate with a grunt of irritation.

“Everyone promised they would be discreet! The limo driver, the hotel manager . . . “ she trailed off with a scowl on her face.

“I’m sure they were, love. Anyone could have tipped off a reporter: a bellhop, a maid . . . “

Emma paced the room. “This means that any time we go out, there could be reporters.”

“Well,” Killian quipped, struggling to keep the shit eating grin off his face and failing spectacularly, “don’t most newlyweds stay in the majority of the time? Doing more enjoyable activities rather than sightseeing?”

Emma rolled her eyes, but a faint blush colored her cheeks. “I’m not going to hide.”

“In that case,” Killian replied, pulling the cover off a plate of eggs benedict and bacon, “I’m going to enjoy the view with my breakfast.”

He carried the plate, some silverware, and a tumbler of orange juice out onto the balcony. He breathed in the salty sea air and let the breeze wash over him.

“Relaxed?” Emma asked sarcastically. Killian turned to see her leaning against the open sliding glass door with her arms cross.

“Aye,” he answered, taking a bite of the eggs benedict and moaning. He was exaggerating slightly to get a rise out of Emma, but they were delicious. “By the way, love, if paparazzi are around, you may not want to lounge about our balcony in naught but your bathrobe.”

Emma blushed as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Do you always talk like a character in a Jane Austen novel?”

He laughed as Emma scurried to get dressed.

******************************************

Emma leaned over the bathroom sink to sweep some blush across her cheeks. She didn’t want to waste too much time primping; those eggs benedict looked amazing, and she didn’t want them to get cold. Yet Killian was right - a picture could be snapped anywhere, and she didn’t want to look pale and depressed She tossed aside her makeup brush, ran her fingers through her hair, and rushed back out to grab her breakfast. Before she could lift the cover on the second breakfast tray, her phone started to ring. She was so hungry, she almost ignored it, but at the last minute, she snatched it up. With the media all over her wedding, anything could go wrong.

Walsh.

Panic flooded through Emma at his name on her cell phone screen, and her hand trembled as she took the call.

“You married someone else?”

Emma clenched her teeth. “Why good morning to you too, Walsh. How is your day?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Emma. We break up, and the next morning I wake up to find your wedding day splashed all over the news?”

“You didn’t just break up with me, Walsh! You cheated on me! And you waited until our wedding day to tell me!”

“And that wedding was never anything more than a stunt for your career. I didn’t even have any say in it.”

“Oh really? So you didn’t get down on one knee and propose? I just imagined that?”

Walsh let out a long breath. “That was eight months ago. A lot has changed since then.”

“I’ll say,” Emma grumbled.

“Don’t put this all on me. I was always your dirty little secret. I couldn’t even tell anyone I was your boyfriend much less your fiance.”

“How dare you!” Emma’s voice had risen, but she didn’t care. “That was you, Walsh! You said you didn’t like that I had a blog or such a huge social media following. You said it made you nervous. You said people would violate your privacy and try to dig up dirt on our relationship. So we kept it secret - because it’s what you wanted. I was your dirty little secret, not the other way around.”

A sleepy, feminine voice came distantly through the phone. “Walsh? Who are you talking to? Come back to bed.”

Emma felt sick. She knew that voice.

“Zelena West? You cheated on me with that bitch?”

“Hey, don’t call her that,” Walsh snapped.

Emma rolled her eyes. Zelena West had overtly flirted with Walsh at every social function back in New York, yet Walsh had insisted constantly that the Broadway starlet was just his client, nothing more. Even worse, Zelena went out of her way to undermine Emma on social media, posting snarky tweets and YouTube videos contradicting Emma’s advice. As if a Broadway actress who slept her way into every role she ever had was qualified to give relationship advice. In Emma’s opinion, Zelena’s dating advice boiled down to “make your man happy with a fake ‘you’ and lots of sex.” Advice that basically took women backward about six decades.

“Is everything okay?”

Emma whirled to see Killian in the doorway to the balcony, his forehead creased with worry. On the other end of the line, Walsh laughed sardonically.

“Sounds like you’re one to talk. You’re on our honeymoon with - what did TMZ call him? Swan’s sexy catch?” Walsh laughed again. “I always wondered why that wedding arbor meant so much to you.”

“You don’t get to judge me!”

“The point is,” Walsh said, his voice turning serious, “we drifted apart as soon as you moved to Storybrooke. I’m a New Yorker through and through, Emma. That kind of life never would have been enough for me.’

Emma sank to the couch and was surprised when Killian sat down next to her and laid a hand comfortingly on her knee. “The thing is, Walsh, you should have told me all of this six months ago. I didn’t deserve what you did to me. I didn’t deserve your cheating or your lying.”

“Who’s lying now?”

The edge to his voice sent a chill down Emma’s spine and she glanced at Killian with a worried expression. He frowned and put an arm around her. Before this phone call, she would have pushed him away, but right now she appreciated the support.

“Are you threatening me, Walsh?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t ruin your facade of a marriage. Lord knows I don’t want my name dragged through the mud when it all blows up in your face.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The truth will come out eventually, Emma, and when it does, your career will be over.”

“Sounds like a threat to me.”

“It isn’t, I promise you. I love Zelena, and I just want a clean break so I can give what I have with her a chance.”

“A clean break? That’s what leaving me on our wedding day is to you?”

“I can admit that my timing was bad, but you promise you won’t interfere with my relationship with Zelena?”

Emma rubbed her forehead wearily. “I don’t give a shit what you do with Zelena. Just stay out of my life. Don’t call me again.”

She hung up without waiting for a reply and tossed her phone down angrily on the sofa. Killian rubbed at her shoulder hesitantly.

“Anything I can do?”

Emma shook her head. “No.” Then she squared her shoulders and rose from the couch. “We have five days here in the Cape, and I intend to enjoy it.”

Killian smiled up at her. “That’s the spirit. How does the beach sound?”

“It sounds great,” she told him, struggling to put a brave smile on her face. Then she went back to the cart that held their breakfast. “But first - I’m starving!”

************************************************

Killian was glad that his swim trunks were roomier than his boxer briefs because Emma Swan made quite the picture lounging in a crimson string bikini. She’d been sunbathing for awhile on her back, and he’d thought that was a tantalizing picture, but his view now was just as delectable. She’d flipped over onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows to read a book. Her bikini bottoms hugged her ass just as well as the top hugged her breasts. It made his mouth dry thinking of how much he’d like to . . . he took a swig from a bottle of water then pressed the cool plastic to his forehead.

“Grab me one?” Emma asked, rolling onto her side and slipping a bookmark into her novel.

Killian pulled one out of the cooler provided by the resort. A wicker basket contained the remains of their lunch - sandwiches, grapes, slices of cheese, and gourmet pretzels. The honeymoon package at this resort was four star, and far nicer than anything Killian had experienced before. Yet Emma wasn’t pretentious in the least. He had learned enough about her over the past few months to know at least that much. She’d moved her life and her practice to Storybrooke because she wanted to really help people, not just cater to the elite in New York. Her therapy fees were a bargain, especially considering her level of education. She lived simply, and he wondered if it was a sacrifice so she could help more clients or just the way Emma Swan rolled. He looked forward to finding out.

He couldn’t really read Emma’s expression behind her sunglasses as she took the water from him, but he saw her lips curl up in a tiny smile. “What’s on your mind, Jones?”

He shook his head. “What?”

“If you stare at me any harder, you’re going to burn a whole in my head.”

He chuckled nervously. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

She took a sip of water. “About what?”

“You.”

“Oh,” Emma said softly.

“I mean, if we’re going to be husband and wife for eight months to a year, we should at least get to know each other.”

Emma was quiet a beat longer than he was comfortable with, but she finally gave a firm nod. “Okay, that’s fair.”

“Of course, we can start with me.” He reached into the basket for a handful of grapes and popped one into his mouth. “So shoot. Ask me anything.”

Emma arched a brow. “Anything?”

“Aye. I’m an open book.” Just don’t ask me how I feel about you. The grape almost stuck in his throat going down. Why was he agreeing to this?

“Okay, then,” Emma took a deep breath, “can you tell me about your first wife? I mean, just what you’re comfortable sharing.”

She was afraid she’d overstepped as Killian fell silent, rolling a grape between two fingers, his gaze distant. Then he popped the grape in his mouth, chewed, swallowed, then began to speak in a low voice.

“Her name was Milah. I was a senior at Bowdoin -”

“Whoa, whoa, wait,” Emma interrupted waving her hand around, “Bowdoin?”

Killian chuckled. “Didn’t expect a carpenter to be a college grad, did you?”

“Yes, I mean no, it’s just,” Emma blew a strand of hair off her forehead in frustration. “That came out wrong. Lots of small business owners have a degree, it’s just . . . Bowdoin?”

Killian nodded with a smug grin.

“Business major?”

“Double major in music and visual arts.”

Emma whistled. “Wow. No wonder your work is so beautiful.”

He scratched behind his ear, a tell Emma had already come to learn meant he was nervous or uncomfortable. “Thank you, Swan.”

“Bowdoin,” she repeated with a shake of her head.

“I know what you’re thinking. It’s expensive. I had scholarships. Two of them - one for art and one for music. It added up to a full ride, but I almost didn’t go.”

“What!”

Killian smiled wistfully. “Believe me, I know. I was young and impetuous. Thought I’d go into the navy, actually, but Liam talked sense into me.”

“He’s your brother?”

“Aye.”

They fell silent again, and Emma wondered if he’d change the subject, if all she’d get was a name and that he’d been a senior at Bowdoin when he met her.

“She was a professor, and she was already married” he finally said, glancing at her sideways as if expecting her reaction to be negative. Little did he know the stuff she’d heard as a psychiatrist. She doubted anything could shock her anymore. When all she did was nod, he continued. “Her husband was controlling, verbally abusive, and much older than her. He was wealthy, and she’d let herself get caught up in the trappings of his life. I think my youth, my freedom, were what appealed to her in the beginning. But over time, I don’t think anyone ever understood me the way she did. We were married at the justice of the peace a week after I graduated, only a month after her divorce was final. It was quite the scandal.”

Killian winked at her, but she got the feeling it was a deflection. She looked down at the beach blanket she was lying on and traced the pattern with her finger.

“What was she like?”

“Brilliant,” he sighed, “and vivacious. She didn’t take shit from anyone. Her husband must have been a right bastard to keep her under his thumb for so long.”

He hadn’t said a word about her looks, which surprised Emma. In her experience, it was the first thing men usually thought of when someone asked them to describe a woman.

“What was she professor of?”

“Music theory. She was quite the composer. The piano was her instrument, and she also had a beautiful voice.”

“What do you play?” Emma scooted closer. She had never imagined him as musical, just as a sweaty man flexing his muscles in that shop of his.

He smiled at her. “The guitar, but I haven’t played much since . . .”

Emma frowned. “Since she passed?”

Killian nodded. Emma scrambled up to sit cross legged on the beach blanket. The mood had gotten heavy, and she suddenly needed to lighten it. She still didn’t know how MIlah died, but perhaps now wasn’t the time. She grinned at Killian and poked him in the leg.

“Okay, Jones. Your turn to ask a question.”

He rubbed at his chin as he regarded her intensely, and Emma had to force herself not to squirm under his gaze. When he finally chose his question, it took her completely by surprise.

“I told you I haven’t read your book, and despite our cover story, I’ve never followed you online either. So tell me, Swan. What exactly is your philosophy on romance?”

Relief and eagerness simultaneously coursed through her. On the one hand, she was relieved that it was a professional question rather than a personal one. On the other, she always got excited talking about her ideas regarding relationships.

“Well, first of all, it’s not about romance, it’s about building solid relationships.”

“You don’t believe in romance?”

Emma shrugged. “There’s obvious biochemical reactions when we are attracted to someone.”

Killian leaned close. “I said romance, not attraction, love.”

Emma glared at him over the rim of her sunglasses as she shoved him playfully in the shoulder. “Okay, smart ass, but what I’m saying is that women in particular can get caught up in what you call romance and miss the reality of who the person they are dating actually is. Men are experts at playing on a woman’s emotions as well in order to get what they want. So step one is for a woman to watch out for those tricks, to understand the games men play so they won’t be duped.”

This was usually the part where men got defensive and started arguing with her, but Killian didn’t.

“What’s step two?”

“Well, step two is the compatibility quotient.”

“Ah, I see, like those algorithms dating sites use.”

Emma shook her head. “No. Those are questions to measure personality compatibility. I help women figure out what they want in a partner. Everything from their professional goals to family goals, even whether they are more an urbanite or suburbanite or like to live way out in the country.”

“Let me guess. There’s a chart.”

Emma huffed. “Are you making fun of me?”

Killian lifted both hands in surrender. “Not at all, Swan. Just a simple question.”

“Yes,” she admitted, “there’s a chart. And I always recommend that women review what it is they want both before and after each date. If the man they’re seeing doesn’t fit, even if it’s only the first date, they end it. Of course, there’s always the red flags to look for too.”

Killian nodded, and you could have knocked her over with a feather at the way he was mulling over her words. Most men were pissed at her by now. Even Walsh had been before she explained how he perfectly fit everything she had been looking for.

Or so she had thought.

“Red flags are definitely important. Milah said there were several before she married Robert, but she’d been blinded by their whirlwind romance.”

“Not rushing into things, that’s important too.”

“Chapter?” Killian asked with a grin.

Emma grinned back. “Chapter four - Seriously Ladies, What’s the Rush?”

“What’s the rush as in my groom just left me and I need a replacement in six hours rush?”

Emma groaned, even though a laugh bubbled out of her unbidden. “I don’t think I covered this scenario in my book.”

“Well, Swan, maybe this will be fodder for your third book.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d said that, and Emma sensed a tone of self-deprecation in his words even though it was worded as a joke.

“So what do you think?” she asked.

“About your third book?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “No, about my theories.”

Killian was silent for a long time. He spread out on his side and propped himself up on his elbows so he was looking right up into her eyes.

“I think it’s all rather clinical, to be honest. I don’t know that love can be boiled down to compatibility or goals in life. I think love is messy and always a risk. It upends your life so that it’s never the same.”

Emma usually got angry when men argued with her about her life’s work, but something about Killian’s voice softened his words.

“I agree, and that’s just it. Women have to protect themselves from allowing their lives to be upended by the wrong person.”

Emma’s face burned as she realized what she was saying. Obviously, her life had been upended by the wrong person. How could she have missed the signs?

“Milah would have liked you, Emma.”

Her eyes widened at Killian’s words and the soft smile upon his face. He could call her out; point out the very obvious failure she had been at her own relationship, but he didn’t. Another long, silent moment passed between them before Emma cleared her throat and started rummaging through the drawstring bag she’d brought along. She pulled out a bottle of sunscreen and started rubbing it into her skin. She had a tendency to burn, and she wasn’t about to spend the rest of their trip miserable and slathered in aloe vera.

Killian sat up and drew closer, reaching around her for the sunscreen and lowering his lips to her ear. “Don’t look, but farther down the beach, behind that sand dune is a man with a camera. He doesn’t look like a tourist, and the camera’s trained on us, not the water.”

Emma froze. “What do we do?”

“Give him what he wants,” Killian answered. “A woman in love would ask the man in her life to do her back, right?”

Emma could only nod as she gathered her hair off her neck. Killian sat behind her and squirted sunscreen into his palm. The sunscreen was cold at first against her skin, but then the warmth of his hands had her muscles relaxing. His fingers were calloused, his touch firm yet gentle. She bit her lower lip as he worked the lotion into her shoulder, her neck, then her upper back. He slid his fingers beneath the straps of her bikini so he wouldn’t miss a spot, then massaged down her lower back, his thumb trailing along the waistband of her bikini bottoms. She hoped he didn’t feel the shiver that coursed through her.

“Lie down.”

His lips brushed the shell of her ear, and she almost leaned back against him with a sigh before his words registered with her brain.

“Excuse me?”

“Lie down. I’ll get the backs of your legs.”

Emma managed to nod and did as he asked, propping her chin on her crossed arms. He massaged the lotion into her thighs and then her calves with such delicious circles of his thumbs that she almost let out a moan.

“Done,” he told her in a husky voice.

Emma rolled over to find herself caged between his arms. “Thank you,” she managed to choke out, yet he didn’t move.

“Newlyweds would kiss right now, don’t you think?”

“Why? Is he still taking pictures?”

Killian leaned in closer and gently removed her sunglasses. “Probably.”

“Then I guess we should.”

“Should what?” his lips were so close now, she could hardly breathe.

“Kiss,” she breathed.

“Right,” his lips brushed hers, then he pressed them against hers firmly. She kissed him back, opening for him immediately. Her arms encircled his neck, bringing him down to her. He could have taken advantage of the situation, pressing his body to hers, exploring her barely clothed figure with his hands, but he didn’t. He rested on his side, slipping one hand beneath her head and caressing her upper arm with his other. When he pulled away, he stayed close, their breaths still mingling.

“That was pretty good acting,” she told him with a shaky voice.

“Right,” he said, rolling onto his back and flinging an arm over his eyes, “acting.”

Now Emma rolled over, caging him between her arms instead. “Hey,” she teased him, “I think we’ve put on a pretty convincing show. Now how about we get out into that water?”

Killian pulled his arm away from his face and squinted in the sun. “Race you to the water?”

“You’re on!”

Emma thought she had the advantage, considering their positions, until Killian grabbed her around the waist. She yelped as he deposited her right on her rear. He then took off for the water line as she scrambled to her feet. She could scarcely breathe, she was laughing so hard.

Not the way she’d imagined this honeymoon twenty four hours ago, that was for sure. She’d expected to be holed up in her room watching rom coms and binge eating ice cream. Instead she was laughing on the beach with Killian Jones who just happened to be a damn good kisser.

#cs ff #cs modern au #marriage of convenience #slow burn

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destiel-love-forever · 4 years

Text

15.3 Thoughts

Damn...

This episode was really well done, but it destroyed me. I still haven’t fully processed, but I figured I needed to get myself in gear and at least try to put out some thoughts/write a CODA.

Here are the things I liked (& my feelings didn’t mind):

Bel looking like a surly, bored teenager with his sighs/yawns/etc. in the background all the time.

Rowena’s GORGEOUS dress

The mention of Lilith: I thought it was pretty cool that something from so early on was factoring back in.

Dean calling Chuck a glorified fan boy

When Jack said “that’s the longest you’ve ever looked me in the eyes” and Cas says “you don’t have eyes”: I giggled.

Cas just shoving Bel down the rupture

Dean’s R.I.P. Hedwig

Bel explaining Cas’ anger to his demon friend - “Yeah, he’s really on edge”

CAS SINGING

Bel’s “Great timing, right, because I heard there was a vacancy” when telling Cas he’ll be the new God

Yaaay the bunker! I’ve missed you, bunker <3

Here are things I liked (but hit me right in the feels... hard)

Ketch’s redemption: ‘Not at any price’ - FINALLY showing his loyalty. Then getting his damn heart ripped out like the writers ripped ours out </3

Cas beating the crap out of Bel & then smiting him

Yes, I know it was awful that he had to do that to Jack, but it was still satisfying. However, that shot of Cas on his knees afterward, looking so scared and lost and sad, killed me. He was so devastated.

The whole Rowena thing. As awful as it is to say, her death got to be pretty damn epic (I mean... that dress alone, am I right?). Plus, the whole prophecy/magic thing coming into play with Sam being the one to kill her.

I cried like a baby hen she gripped Sam’s chin and said ‘that’s my boy’. UGH.

The boys back at the bunker, Dean pointing out that they finally won/beat Chuck (obviously they haven’t, but they don’t know that) and both boys are so emotionally wrecked that neither even look happy or relieved about this.

Things I 100% hated (& won’t forgive Dean Winchester for in a long, long time)

Dean nominating Cas to go to hell

Using the ‘you’ve been to hell before’ excuse and Cas giving him that look of betrayal, because YES, DEAN I WENT TO HELL TO SAVE YOU. && then Cas’ small little, ‘Well, looks like I don’t have a choice’ & Dean ROLLING HIS EYES and barking, “Good.” Just... what an asshole. Since when do they EVER volunteer each other for dangerous jobs? That’s hell. He has no idea if Cas will be able to even get back in time.

Bel pointing out twice that Cas’ friends/so called ‘family’ don’t care about him

First, when he pointed out that his friends may never see him again. ‘Funny, but they didn’t seem to think twice about it’

Second, when they’re down in hell and Cas tells Bel that the boys are just using him. Bel throws that truth bomb out, saying Cas learned that from experience, and the look of pure GRIEF on Cas’ face hurts... It hurts so bad.

DEAN JUST TOSSING THAT FUCKING BOMB IN, NOT CARING THAT CAS IS STUCK DOWN THERE

And then Cas showing up, and instead of Dean being at all relieved, he’s just pissed, biting his head off.

THAT WHOLE FUCKING SCENE AT THE END WITH DEAN/CAS.

The way Dean looks over at Cas, slowly looking over at him when he asks about Sam, then sauntering over to him. And that awkward finger tap on the table that he always does when he doesn’t want to talk about something serious.

Dean raising his voice at Cas, not even caring or listening to him (but what’s new, right?)

When Cas says the thing about plans changing, ‘something always goes wrong’ and you can hear the strain in Cas’ voice, he’s close to crying, and there’s this tremble, this crack, to his words. & Dean’s been avoiding eye contact for DAYS but chooses this moment to stare Cas straight in the eye so he can look at him when he asks, ‘Yeah, and why does that something always seem to be you?’

UGH and that look Cas gets after this. He’s always worried about not being good enough for them. He’s always been so hard on himself. And there Dean goes, confirming his worst fear.

& Dean KNOWS how much he hurt Cas, because he has to look away from Cas. And Cas looks off to the side, and his chin trembles, and he looks SO DAMN CLOSE to crying.

Cas looking so defeated. “You used to trust me, used to give me the benefit of the doubt” and laughs at himself. “Now you can barely look at me” & Dean being an ASS and staring him down, that mask Dean wears so well firmly in place.

“My powers are failing, and I’ve tried to talk to you, over and over and you just don’t want to hear it, you don’t care, I’m dead to you” AND DEAN ROLLS HIS EYES. And he doesn’t correct Cas, and he nods when Cas says he still blames him, still unable to look at him.

& side note, Cas probably tried telling Dean that his powers are failing at the end of ep. 1 when Dean asked if he was okay, and he says, “Yes, but-” and Dean cut him off, not caring.

& then Cas does that little head nod as he processes that this is really happening, Dean doesn’t even care about him, doesn’t even try to tell him he’s wrong, doesn’t argue that Cas is dead to him.

Then Cas forces himself to look up, to look at Dean even though he’s clearly a breath away from breaking, and says, “Well, I don’t think there’s anything left to say” & continues to stare at him for a few seconds, just BEGGING for Dean to say something. Anything. Needing Dean to LOOK at him. To STOP him. An then he turns away.

& Dean (A.K.A. the asshole) asks (in an angry voice, which he doesn’t really have a right to have) “Where you going?”

And Cas looking so defeated. Feeling worthless. Because Dean doesn’t need him. Dean doesn’t want him.

And Cas says, “I think it’s time for me to move on” and he darts his eyes around before finally looking at Dean, and Dean’s looking back at him confused and hurt and still angry AND IF YOU PAY ATTENTION, DEAN’S HOLDING HIS FUCKING BREATH RIGHT NOW.

& the way Dean stares down at the floor as he processes this, face crumpling, eyes darting around, his mind clearly sending off alarms ‘no, no, that’s not what’s supposed to happen’ and then he does that final glance up, almost like he’s checking to see if this is really happening, if Cas is really going to leave him, hoping he turns around, but Cas leaves, and Dean’s left to just sit there, frozen as Cas slams the bunker door.

OH I’M SORRY, IS THAT ME SOBBING LIKE A BABY WHILE SIMULTANEOUSLY SCREAMING AT DEAN IN WHITE HOT ANGER.

*** I just want to add that even if you don’t ship Destiel, Dean Winchester’s behavior in this episode (hell, this season) is 100% unacceptable. Whether he sees Cas as a lover, a best friend, a brother, whatever, this treatment is wrong. It’s really wrong. It’s abusive and cruel and I could go on but I won’t because I’ve honestly been sick over this. Castiel deserves so much better. So so so much better.

** You can read the CODA I wrote for this episode on Tumblr: HERE && AO3: HERE

#supernatural #season 15 #spoilers #15.3 #rupture #rant #angry me #pissed

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infinitum-imaginaerum · 5 years

Text

DK | A.19 “Please don’t leave.” | @daehyun-naekkoya

Words | 3,500

Warnings | Angst... ouch. Some curse words. Mentions of implications of cheating???

Notes | All relationships have problems, kiddos. Be sure to talk to your partner about EVERYTHING. And that’s Ailea’s mom advice for the day.

PLEASE CHECK THE STATUS OF THE GAME AT THE TOP OF THE PROMPT LIST BEFORE REQUESTING.

Send me a bias, a section, and a number and I’ll write you a thing!

Tensions between you and DK were continually getting worse. Even though you both had tried your best to be understanding with the other and calmly work through your problems, everything seemed to be becoming more and more significant of an offense and you were determined to figure out why. He began picking fights with you over the tiniest things, no matter how insignificant—it was as if he was constantly I the most horrible mood of his life.

He never seemed to be happy to see you anymore. Doing anything with or for you seemed like a chore. Overall, he appeared to be disinterested in the relationship. It hurt your heart to ever think that he would be this way; at the very least you assumed that he was man enough to talk to you about what he was feeling, about what was going on between the two of you so it felt as though there was something else eating him that he began taking out on you.

Either way, you were going to get to the bottom of it. He was silent throughout dinner, despite your vain attempts to make conversation and ended up clearing your place far before you were even finished with your own plate—that’s how fed up you were with the tension. The leftovers were put into a container as you began cleaning your plate and retrieved DK’s soon after.

“Finished?” you asked, even though you knew he wasn’t. If he was going to act this way then two could play at this game, considering you had already asked him multiple times what was causing the distress with no good reply to come from it. If he wanted to be petty, you could be petty, too. Usually, he didn’t want to play that game because you could easily out stubborn his soft-heartedness. Perhaps not this time.

“Actually, no,” he replied snippily. You took his plate anyway, scraping his leftovers into the same container as your own, ignoring his answer to the question you weren’t really expecting an answer for, since it wasn’t a question that wanted an answer.

With pursed lips, you washed his plate and put everything away. Usually DK did the dishes if you cooked—that was the agreement you had—but you just didn’t have the patience to sit at that table with him and have him stonewall you the entirety of dinner. Conversation was already scarce at the table as it was, only becoming more so the longer time went on.

“What is with your attitude?” he asked.

You had to scoff and almost dropped the plate in your hand into the scalding water in the sink.

“My attitude?” you asked, as if he had just said something totally mind boggling—and it was. The only one with attitude around there for the longest time was him before you were done putting up with it, and today had been the last straw.

“Yeah, that’s what I said, your attitude.”

“Is this the hill you want to die on, Dokyeom?” you asked him and gently set the plate in the sink before turning in his direction with a hand on your hip.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked you from the kitchen table.

“You’re the first to jump on me about an attitude without checking your own. You think I would have an attitude with you if you didn’t have one first? I’ve done nothing but ask you what’s wrong for I can’t remember how long now and you typically meet me with silence and you want to know what’s with my attitude?”

He gave you the rudest look, one you were convinced his face couldn’t even make.

“And why would I have an attitude with you, I wonder,” he replied as if you were supposed to know the answer to that rhetorical question.

“I don’t know, because you don’t love me anymore? If you felt that way, then we should have talked about it like adults, like the man I know you are!” you yelled, finally having enough of his petulant attitude.

This time, he scoffed and looked away from you. He shook his head, as if in disbelief, as he soaked in your words. “It’s funny that you even say that,” he replied with a laugh but you knew it wasn’t because it was funny, it was because he was pissed as all hell, “because all this time, you’re the one who has fallen out of love with me.”

“That’s absurd!” you defended yourself, “I have done nothing but try to work this out while you’ve just sat around and sneered at my very existence for what feels like months!”

“You have betrayed me in every deep way possible! How could I even consider that you still love me after you’d hurt me like that!”

You weren’t really sure what he was even going off about; but it must have been something really bad for him to even say that.

“You won’t even tell me what I did to hurt you like this!” you yelled back, the frustration growing just as your tears were, stinging your eyes as you wouldn’t dare let them fall.

“I really shouldn’t have to tell you. You know what you did, what you’re doing!”

You rolled your eyes. Not because you were fed up with what he was saying, but because you couldn’t possible fathom what you had even done that was so offensive. He looked heartbroken, sitting in that chair in front of you refusing to even look in your direction.

“I’m honestly surprised you haven’t left yet,” he replied calmly, but you could feel the grit of his teeth in his words, the strain in his throat as he did his best not to cry, despite the tears cropping up against his waterline. You could see on his profile as he continued to look away from you, his arms now crossed over his chest. It was very unlike him to cry, but instead of worrying about that, all you could do was stand there, astounded.

“I’m sorry, if you wanted me to leave, that’s all you had to say. I’ll go pack my bags,” you said, drying your hands off on a dish towel that you soon angrily discarded onto the kitchen counter and booked it passed him to the bedroom to haul a large suitcase from the closet. You’d only be able to get about half of your things in that suitcase, but it would give you enough to stay with someone else while you figured out what you were going to do.

You could distinctly heart the screech of his chair against the dining room floor, but it didn’t matter too much as you tried to push the tears back, your heart beginning to shatter in your chest. How could he cast you aside so easily, so nonchalantly? After all the two of you had been through, after everything you’d grown through together, after DK had displayed to you on multiple occasions that the two of you could work through anything together and he basically just told you to get out.

He leaned against the door frame, the wood creaking under his weight as he watched you. You did your best to ignore him, to continue to pack as if he wasn’t destroying you just standing there, not saying anything. When you finally had bustled around the room enough to collect the essentials, you zipped your bag and dropped it to the floor with a grunt—it perhaps weighed at least half of you—before you finally looked at him.

Tears were streaking down his once immaculate cheeks, his eyes were puffy, his lips pursed in a hard line and his jaw tense.

“I’ll be by with a moving truck in the coming week, if you’d kindly hold my stuff until then.” Your voice was rough, cutting DK like a knife and he let out perhaps the most desperate gasp any man could followed by a harsh sob.

You couldn’t stand to see him cry, so you did your best to look away from him as you reached up to push the tears that had escaped off your cheek and proceeded to push passed him with the suitcase. He followed you out to the front door.

“That’s it? You’re going to walk out that door without so much as an explanation!”

With fists clenched, about to lose your entire shit, you turned to him. “Explain what DK? I don’t even know what I did, and despite my best efforts to ask you thousands of times and try to work this out with you, you’ve stonewalled me! Clearly, you want me to leave. Clearly, I have totally broken you! And you don’t deserve that. Whatever I have done, I truly am sorry.”

“You’re really going to stand there and deny the fact that you’ve been seeing someone else?”

If your head could have popped off your shoulders, it would have. If you weren’t lost before, you sure were now. “You’re going to stand there and blatantly deny sending affectionate text messages to another man, sending hearts and shit to him—you’re going to try and leave here without saying shit about that to me?”

“What the actual fuck are you talking about?”

“I can’t even believe you!” he screamed—never had he raised his voice like that at you, and it honestly made you quiver; your knees buckled a bit as you shrunk under his intense gaze. You couldn’t think to do anything else except whip your phone out of your pocket and tentatively try to give it to him.

“Show me,” you requested gently.

He all but snatched your phone from your hands, unlocking it with your anniversary as your passcode, which he was surprised it still was. Dokyeom looked furious, tears trickling down his cheeks, off his chin, off his nose, tears he was furiously trying to push away as he perused your phone to the messaging app and quickly pulled up the thread to shove it back in your face after reading the most recent messages.

“You’re even going to meet with him this weekend! And you have the audacity to stand here and lie to my face!”

You took the phone back from him to look at the thread. Simultaneously relieved and furious, you blinked hard, keeping your eyes closed for a good few moments before opening them again to look at the love of your life who you really wanted to punch in the face.

The situation was hard to take. On the one hand, it was a misunderstanding. But on the other hand, it displayed the fragility of your relationship. Not that you would ever accuse him of snooping through your phone, because you trusted him, but he should have trusted you enough that you could allow him to snoop through your phone. To be honest, he probably saw a message that prompted the snooping—either way, maybe he didn’t love you the way he claimed. The deeper you thought about it, the more problematic the situation became.

“Dokyeom,” you spoke calmly, “if you would have just asked…” you trailed off, too frustrated to even begin explaining.

“I didn’t want to ask! I had hoped that you would have come clean with me! I thought you loved me…”

“Dokyeom, I love you with my entire heart,” you replied with a crack in your voice, a different type of tears stinging your eyes and felt like lava down your cheeks. “Dummy is my brother, you idiot,” you added, referring to the contact name you had him under. “He just moved to the city, I told you that months ago. I have every right to text my brother whatever I want; I have every right to meet my brother whenever I want.”

His jaw just about unhinged. Maybe he had realized that this uncovered the fragility of your relationship, too.

“If you would have just… asked me, Dokyeom…”

All you could feel was hurt. Your heart ached for a different reason. He actually believed that you were immoral enough of a person to cheat on him and try to keep the gig up. Many things were becoming difficult because of this tiny misunderstanding.

“Duchess, I—”

“Don’t duchess me, Dokyeom,” you replied, spitting fire. In all honesty, you kind of wanted to leave at this point.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered, almost inaudibly as you stood there thinking about what to do. “You have every right to talk to him any way you want, I just—”

“You just didn’t ask, didn’t trust me, and pinned me as an immoral witch,” you interrupted.

He muttered your name, but wouldn’t dare reach for you. He could see that you were almost shaking, and desperately wanted to take that all away, but the things that you just told him ripped his heart right out of his chest and stomped on it.

“The thought that I would ever cheat on you means you don’t trust me. Maybe it would be better for both of us—”

“Please, don’t leave!” he cried, a broken screech that echoed through your apartment and followed by muffled sobs as he covered his mouth. It hurt more than anything, watching him cry so harshly. He was shaking, your rock. You never saw him this way, he felt desperate, especially when he dropped to his knees unable to stand anymore.

He was shaking like crazy, frantic, holding himself tightly since he knew you wouldn’t. His sobs were silent, but the tears were relentless on his face. All you could really do was look down at him and wait for him to say something, anything, because even though you wanted nothing more than to hold him, than to make it all go away, your feet felt bolted to the floor.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry! I was so scared; I saw one message and my whole life fell apart. I should have asked you, I should have! I couldn’t think, I could barely breathe through the heartache. Eventually I just started believing it, and stopped doubting because it seemed easier to swallow in the long run. I didn’t want to be a fool, but I ended up suffering twice and while I deserve it, please don’t leave,” he explained to the best of his ability despite his quivering breaths and his weak state.

“Dokyeom… You should have just asked…” you replied, trying to stall until your anger subsided.

“I know! I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot! But you are my life, and the thought of that crumbling so easily hurt more than I can explain!” he hollered through tears, doubling over to the ground at your feet. He looked pathetic, but if everything he was saying was true—and you were inclined to believe him—you didn’t blame him. As much as his whole life was falling apart, his heart crumbling in his chest, so was yours. Life without him had become obsolete.

“You were supposed to be my forever,” you replied, the tears finally silently escaping unrestricted down your cheeks and off your chin onto the tiled floor in front of you.

“I still want to be,” he squeaked. “This whole thing was a misunderstanding and I still am so in love with you, even if all of it was true. I want you to be my forever.” He peered up at you, gaining enough control to push himself back up to his knees.

“This is going to put a strain on this relationship we will have to work on overdrive to fix; you know that, right? This has caused a lot of damage—the implications of your assumptions…”

To him, it sounded like you were negotiating why it would be better to just leave. He shook his head and dared to crawl up to your feet.

“If I have to prove my love a thousand lifetimes over, I would do it with a smile. There is nothing I wouldn’t do. If it means we have to pull each other through it, I will lead as much as you need me to. If the damage was irreparable, I would still try my best,” he explained. The sincerity in his eyes was beyond enough. “Please… please…” he begged, and he never begged, “I love you, and I will only love you for the rest of my life.”

You couldn’t stand to see him cry anymore, and you were tired of him seeing you cry, so you reached out to take the back of his head, threading your fingers through his soft hair to tug his head into your torso to cradle it against you. His hands, although tentative, rose to grab a hold of your hips as he turned his face into your body. Soft fingers stroked through his hair in such a calming manner, the type of calmness only you could grant him. Somehow, he could feel some semblance of forgiveness in that motion alone.

“Shall we continue the tradition?” you asked. He looked up at you, chin pressed into your torso as he blinked his tears back, but it didn’t stop you from taking his cheeks in both of your hands to brush his tears away with your thumbs. “That is, if you can stand.”

Dokyeom rose to his feet to stand over you. You weren’t the kiss and make-up type when you fought; you had a different tradition that still displayed the affection but in perhaps a more appropriate manner. He took both of your hands to place them up on his shoulders and, after pushing your suitcase off to the side and took a few steps back, captured your waist with his arms.

His forehead was warm against yours, despite both of your faces being a thousand degrees from the welling of emotions. Naturally, your eyes fluttered closed and relished his closeness, his touch, his breath across your face and the emotion in his grasp.

Tears finally faded being replaced with calm and calculated breaths. DK stepped gently with you from side to side, slowly leading you around the living room despite the lack of music. DK always said that the only music you needed was in your heart and that everything would come naturally. The two of you relaxed into each other, letting the tension of the fight flow out to bring new, better energy back in. There was no more correct place for you than being in his arms, it felt.

He danced with you until he was sure the water in the sink was cold and you had finally remembered. When you began to say something about the dishes, he hushed you, promised he would do them as long as you gave him a little more time and sunk his face into the crook of your neck until you were nagging him the way you always did. The saving grace for your OCD about the dishes as that they were at least soaking, instead of drying and getting crusty.

After a bit, he conceded and took you into the kitchen with him. He did the dishes on the sole condition that you were snuggled into his back while he did so. You agreed and stood there with your arms lightly wrapped around his middle, head resting against his shoulder as he cleaned the dishes.

“I love you,” he reminded you, cleaning the last bits of silverware and glasses.

“I love you more than you may ever know,” you replied, pressing deeper into his back.

He helped you unpack your suitcase and stowed it back in the closer, doing everything you could together and even broke into tears a couple more times—it was going to be a process. The night was quiet, putting on a movie just to pass the time, really, as you cuddled on the couch, trying your best to mend the situation the best you could before facing a new day.

“I am so sorry,” he reminded you, brushing his nose against yours.

“We’ll get through it,” you responded and pressed your head into his shoulder.

“May I call you duchess?” he asked, stroking your cheek as he tried to look down at you.

“You know I love it when you do.”

You went to bed with him that night, a slight change from previous times when one of you opted to sleep on the couch to give the other some space when things did get heated even though they seldom did. It was different; there was an innate desire to stay with each other to help the healing process. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, somehow pretzel-ing his limbs with yours to wrap you up tight. Your hands carded through his hair, soothing yourself almost as much as it did him.

“We’ll get through it?” he grumbled.

“We’ll make it, baby.”

#dk #svt #dk scenarios #svt scenarios #dk angst #svt angst #svt kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #dokyeom #dokyeom scenarios #dokyeom angst #lee seokmin #lee seokmin scenarios #prompt game: svt fas

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blehbleehhhh · 5 years

Text

I Need You pt.2❤️

Okay, here’s part two of the “Mikasa Gets Jealous” request. Enjoy some actual angst that isn’t, you know, him beating the shit out of her, and fluff and UGH I’M JUST SO EXCITED TO SHARE THISsnsksmsm.

“I, uh, haven’t seen you much today, or the last three days, so, I got worried.”

"I'm fine."

"I know you better than you know yourself, Mikasa, and it's clear something is wrong."

"Well, how very observant of you, Eren!" She fired back as she turned to face him with her eyes glued to the floor. "It's nice to know that you still give a damn about me." The girl sniffled quietly, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she finally looked up and met his inquisitive gaze, holding his hands up in defense as he studies her blank expression and sorrowful eyes.

“Woah, what the fuck? Why are you jumping down my throat?”

"You must think that I'm pretty weak if you searched for training assistance from someone else." Mikasa brought a hand to her wet cheeks and briefly looked away from his dreamy eyes as he just stared at her because he's been stunned into silence. "That's it, isn't it? You think I'm weak!" Oh.

"No, that isn't it at all! You're putting words in my mouth again, and I fucking hate it when you do that!"

"Then why did you ask Annie to help you, when I'm just as good as she is?" Her voice cracked as she wiped away the continuous flow of tears, shaking her head because he's taking a step closer, his incredible eyes screaming a familiar sight that she's seen in them many times before; concern and regret.

"Why are you so upset with me for training with someone else?!"

"Because ever since you started spending more time with her, you haven't made any effort at all to spend time with me!" Mikasa sniffled with a simultaneous chuckle, still surprised that she even feels jealous and is allowing it to effect her behavior like this, but it is Eren. "Do you like her?" He responded with a frustrated sigh and brought his hands up to rub his face, dragging them down slowly as he allowed them to fall to his sides.

"Oh, not this conversation again! For the last fucking time, I don't have any romantic feelings for Annie!" Eren dictated emphasis with his hands and finds himself feeling genuinely desperate for her to not be upset because there were no malicious intentions behind his actions, and he needs her to understand that. "And why would you care if I did?!" Suddenly a great sob escaped her and he panicked, not entirely sure if he'll even be allowed to approach her when she’s already at this stage of being hysterical.

"BECAUSE I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU!" Mikasa cried and covered her mouth with shaking hands, relieved to have finally told him, but the feeling of panic is all too overwhelming after blurting out something she has cleverly disguised for years now because she's terrified of losing him. Those beautiful green eyes grew wide, telling her that he’s been shocked into absolute silence for the second time during this increasingly heated exchange. It’s so unusual for her to have a meltdown like this. "Oh -" She sucked in a quick breath as she bursted into tears once more, stomping her barefoot out of anger. "Why won't you just admit that you're pissed I don't need you to protect me anymore!"

"FINE! YES, OKAY?! YES!" Eren threw his hands over his head in exasperation and walked right up to where she stands with her back against the cold stone wall, slamming his powerful fists against it on either side of her head. "I KNOW YOU DON'T FUCKING NEED ME TO PROTECT YOU AND I CAN'T STAND IT! IT'S DRIVING ME CRAZY!" She pressed her lips together with a small head shake as she got into his face.

"DID THE THOUGHT EVER CROSS YOUR MIND THAT THE REASON WHY I'M ALWAYS FUCKING SAVING YOUR ASS IS BECAUSE I AM STRONGER THAN YOU?!" Mikasa fired back with a tearful voice, watching through watery eyes as he hung his head in response. "HUH?!" She cried passionately, her hands briefly covering her mouth before falling into fists at her sides as he whipped his head up and looked into her eyes with an expression so truly irritated to be forced into a corner.

"BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO FUCKING HURT YOU, OKAY?!"

"I DON'T NEED YOU TO WORRY ABOUT HURTING ME! I NEVER DID! I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF!" She bit her lower lip, her chin trembling as she studied his eyes intently. "OKAY?! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!"

"GOD DAMMIT YES! I KNOW!" Eren sighed deeply as he watched her wipe the tears away from her eyes, so red and twinkling a different shine he hasn't seen since he woke from his serious head injury. He remembers thinking even then how beautiful they are when she cries, and his opinion hasn't changed. "But I need you.." Her expression softened immediately and she let out a shaky sigh as he studied her eyes, hooked on their unique and alluring color.

"Yeah? Well, you're gonna have to do a hell of a lot better than that if -" But Mikasa didn't get to finish her statement, because he crashed his surprisingly soft lips against hers, triggering a sudden, overwhelming feeling of finally, for fucks sakes finally that hit them both hard. The positive response was immediate; she threw her arms around his neck and returned his kisses just as eagerly as they were being given, his hands already on her hips in the hopes of encouraging her to come closer until their bodies they could feel each others racing heart, pounding hard against their chests with excitement. He was already hooked on her like a drug when she slipped her fingers into his soft, brown hair and jumped up to wrap her legs around his waist, kissing him like she needed each other to breathe. With so much passion and new found understanding bubbling to the surface between them that it hung in the room long after he had blindly wandered over to her bed and fell back with her happily laying on top. This is it. This is exactly what they've always wanted and secretly craved during all this time pretending like they're only family or good friends, when there was this strong and almost magnetic attraction between them all along waiting to be expressed. Eren slid his hands down to the small of her back, wandering slowly up beneath her shirt to touch the warm, smooth skin he's admittedly eager to kiss. He squeezed his arms around her as he flipped Mikasa onto her back, eliciting a small, playful yelp into his mouth, who was genuinely smiling as the only man she has ever loved pulled his lips away to bury his face in the side of her neck, already exposed to the world because the scarf is folded neatly on her nightstand. Her t-shirt was soon pushed over her braless breasts and his lips were immediately kissing in the valley between, leaving slow, open mouthed kisses all over the snowy territory. "I can't believe that you're here." He looked up into her eyes and appeared to be genuinely confused with her statement, his hand reaching up to gently push her bangs away from her face.

"Did you really think that I wouldn't notice you missing?"

"Well, honestly, yeah.."

"Why?"

"Because you were so into spending your time with Annie, that I just figured it wouldn't even matter to you if -"

"Mikasa," He fought his urge to frown, but he knows that out of any of the people he associates with, this woman can read his eyes and his body like a book. With a light hand he reached up to cradle her cheek and wiped her tears away with his thumb, leaning down to gently bump their foreheads together. She desperately wants to look away because she feels so ashamed. "How could I not notice when someone who's always been attached to my hip is suddenly not there?"

"I'm so sorry.."

"No, it's okay, I'm not mad at you. Just -" Eren breathed to her as he gently kissed the fresh tears off her wet cheeks. "I can't lose you again." His words set her over the edge and she cried happy tears as he placed a soft kiss on her lips, calming her almost immediately. She sighed a quiet whimper into his mouth and eagerly returned his affections as his hand up to touch one of her breasts, then briefly pulled his lips away. "Fine time to ask, but, is this okay?"

"Absolutely.." Mikasa smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him down once more, their kisses significantly less frantic and much more passionate and loving. She moaned into his mouth as he squeezed her breast, a sound that he already finds to be intoxicating, gradually squeezing harder and harder until she was grinding against his bulge, pressing her breast further into his hand. It didn't take him long to get the hint, pulling his lips away enough that he could tug off her t-shirt, making her squeal with excitement as she crashed her smile against his. He reached between them and placed a hand on her stomach, allowing it to slowly travel lower as she rushed through the buttons of his shirt, letting out what came across as a sigh of relief into his mouth now that they're skin to skin and making out. His hand slid beneath the stretchy waistbands of her sleep shorts and panties to touch the wetness, rubbing his fingers in a slow, circular motion. Her kisses suddenly grew desperate, squeezing her thighs around his arm in reflex as a warm throb pulsed between her legs that made them fall open, slowly grinding herself against his fingers. She tore her lips away with a moan and gazed up into his eyes as he carefully slid his finger inside, thrusting it in and out of her slowly. "Ooh..." Mikasa whimpered with pleasure as she cradled that handsome face in her hands and slid them up into his hair, fingers thrusting faster as the palm of his hand rubs against her clit, making her hips rise the faster he goes. And they were kissing again as he swallowed her moans, her body tensing up and relaxing because he's triggered a climax, squirming beneath and gently tugging on his hair. God it's growing painful for him to wear his trousers, but he wants to move at her comfort level and is more than content with just playing with her. In fact, he finds that he enjoys seeing her so vulnerable to him like this and it makes him wonder if he's always desired her on some level, which is confirmed when he thinks back to the dreams he's been having of her lately that had actually drove him to spend more time with Annie, since he didn't want to deal with how he feels about Mikasa. The thought alone of training with her as a duo is distracting, so it would have been incredibly difficult to learn anything from her. Then she did something that he was honestly surprised at - she cut him out, which is something that she has never done, he hadn't ever considered such a thing would occur in retaliation. Hell, he didn't think that she would care at all, that they would continue on as usual, but that's not what happened.

Mikasa's body was pressed down into the mattress and she sighed happily as he buried his face in her neck to bathe this space with tender kisses, slowly scattering them down her body as he removes her panties and her sleep shorts, tossing them aside without once lifting his lips from her toned stomach. With her legs already spread he dropped down on his stomach and placed his hands on her inner thighs, watching her dreamy, half lidded gaze as he carefully pries her apart with his fingers, diving into the hot wetness. He slipped his arms beneath her hips and placed his hands on her stomach, flicking his tongue quickly over the little swollen nub until she exhaled a pleasurable whimper and her hips began to tremble. Eren sat up just enough to reach and unbuckle his belt before unfastening his trousers, returning her smile as their lips finally collided. Tongues danced and played between kisses and he can't help but think, fuck, I'm in love this girl, because he hadn't felt this free until they finally kissed. They both feel everything melt away and even if it's temporary, the pair are more than grateful for each other than ever before. With a gentle hand she reached between them to touch his throbbing erection, gradually wrapping her fingers around the thickness and stroking slowly as he moaned a low moan into her mouth. She wrapped her legs around his waist as she positioned him at her opening, whimpering in temporary discomfort after losing her virginity, his length slowly working its way into the tight heat that eagerly swallowed him whole. She cried softly into their kiss and he could taste her tears as she let her hands wander his toned, muscular back, snaking her arms around his neck, her little whimpers making him pull his lips away in apprehension. The young man looked genuinely remorseful as they studied each other's eyes, softly kissing the tears from her rosy cheeks. He's never been this gentle with me. This realization made her tear up once more, chin quivering as she continues to grow accustomed to the new feeling of having him buried deep inside of her - and then she breathed the most intoxicating moan now that she's finally through the pain, digging her nails into his back in the hopes of encouraging him to begin thrusting.

“Don't worry about hurting me, Eren, just make love to me.." His immediate smirk made her blush as he leaned in to kiss her smile, disengaging himself slowly and pushing back inside slowly at first until those beautiful eyes rolled back, then he gradually increased his pace. She rewarded him with more of her moans and even many pleasurable whimpers as he listens to her begging him for more, more, more. "Goodness, you're so big..." Her laughter is something that he doesn't get to hear very often and it's understandable to say the least, but he does miss it, so pure and from her gut like a child's giggle. "Ohhh! Don't stop!" She's loud, much too loud, and it forced him to kiss her to swallow her moans, not that he's complaining, no, because Eren knows if training were for some reason canceled tomorrow he would stay here and do this all night. Suddenly, she squealed with delight in their kiss and pressed her legs into his sides when she came hard, powerful enough that he had to stop or he would have finished as well. But he knows that he's close, this feeling has overwhelmed him dozens of times before whenever he does decide to indulge himself, he is a young man after all, oftentimes fantasizing something embarrassingly sexual they do where she's dressed in nothing but one of his t-shirts that would absolutely swallow her. He's always felt ashamed of these feelings and they make it a little more than difficult to be around her sometimes where all he can think about when he sees those gray-blue orbs is her in his shirt, sitting on his bed. With one swift movement he pulled out just in time and exploded his load across her stomach, grunting and moaning in an almost animalistic way as she pulled him down once more, swallowing every grunt and moan that roars its way out of his mouth. Both were reluctant to pull away since it was such a relief to finally be wrapped up in each other's arms like this, kissing so lovingly. But for now, her lips separated from his slowly, gazing lovingly up into his eyes as she reached a hand to push some of that sexy, shaggy brown hair back from his face smiling her same beautiful smile that made him chuckle.

"Hey, I love you too, by the way."

"Really?"

"I've been crazy about you for a while, actually. You've been quite a distraction." He smirks and she just about melts, grinning and biting her lower lip.

"Well, next time you're in love with me, don't shut me out, okay?"

"I could say the same thing to you."

"Can I have my underwear? Just so I can, you know, wipe this off.." Mikasa blushed redder than her cheeks were already and smiled as he leaned in to kiss her once, twice, a third time before he pushed himself up with the strength from his arms. He reached over the bed for her panties and plopped them onto her belly so he could clean his mess from her abs. "Thank you," She smiled up at him and gestured to a small pile of clothing that's accumulated over the last few days. "You can just toss it in the dirty clothes pile, I don't care." His eyes were still on hers when he tossed her panties off to the side with a small grin, leaning down once more to kiss her softly on the lips as he slid his hands beneath to bring her along when he rolled onto his back. She carefully parted his legs with one of hers and only rests half of her body on top of him as they kiss deeply, a hand slowly roaming his muscular core, occasionally tracing the impressive dips and ridges. Eren wrapped an arm around her tiny waist and held her close as she stretched an arm down for the covers to pull them over top of their naked bodies. "Holy shit, kissing you is amazing. I can't believe we're just now getting to this.." He actually laughed and it made her heart feel so much lighter. "What?"

“Nothing, nothing.”

"No, tell me! What is it?"

"It just feels strange to be acting on my urges with you instead of suppressing them."

"I feel the same way.." Mikasa smiled as she buried her face in the crook of his neck and settled into his side, breathing a soft sigh as if she were extremely relaxed, content to be wrapped up in his arms. And as they lie there in the comfort of one another, cuddling naked beneath the covers, Eren couldn't help but think as he gazed at her beautiful face, illuminated by moonlight shining through the window.

Yeah, I can definitely get used to this.

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